


Losing

by Applesandbannas747



Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22974538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applesandbannas747/pseuds/Applesandbannas747
Summary: Seiji Katayama does not take kindly to losing.
Relationships: Nicholas Cox/Seiji Katayama
Comments: 224
Kudos: 180





	1. Chapter 1

Seiji was furious. Humiliated. Humbled and brought down to earth. He’d only faced such defeat once before and he’d gotten _better._ He’d worked and improved and become _the best_. It should have been enough. It was almost enough. It _wasn’t_ enough.

He didn’t want to be here, in this school, in these dorms, in this room. Not right now. But there was nothing for it. Kings Row was closer, more convenient, more practical. And he wouldn’t go running home for this. Wouldn’t cry to his mother and hide from the world at his defeat. But it wasn’t really the world he wanted to hide from.

It was late already. He’d stayed out with Coach Dmytro after the final match. He’d delayed as long as possible. But it couldn’t be avoided forever. After weeks of traveling for national tournaments, it was strange to be back in this small room. Stranger still because of its tidiness but for the dust. Nicholas’s things weren’t spread all over the room for once. A testament to the fact that he, like Seiji, had not been here recently.

Seiji showered, unpacked, tried to will himself to sleep it off. But the anger wouldn’t leave him. He tore out of bed and pulled on clothes—he’d be getting no sleep tonight. No point in pretending. He grabbed whatever he found first. Jeans. A pressed, white button-down. With his jacket bunched in a fist, he was about to step into his shoes and leave.

The door opened.

“Seiji!” Nicholas’s face was flushed with joy and his smile was stupidly sincere. “I couldn’t find you after the match—you were amazing! I mean, obviously, you’re always amazing but I wanted to tell you that, anyway.” Seiji thought he remembered this from his first bout against Nicholas. His irritating sense of good sportsmanship. He didn’t return the sentiment. Nicholas finally seemed to notice the mood spilling from Seiji and into the room, making it dark and hostile. His eyes flew up and down Seiji, taking in the hastily donned outfit with a frown. “You…going somewhere?” He asked.

“Yes,” Seiji answered, and even the single word cost him a great effort to say so evenly.

“Where are you off to? Can I come? It’s been ages since we’ve got to spend any time together.” He wasn’t very bright. Or, perhaps, he was terribly optimistic.

“No,” Seiji said, ignoring the way this made Nicholas’s face crumple. No, he didn’t _ignore_ it. He relished it.

“Oh, okay. I just thought…”

“You’ve never been good at that. Thinking.” Seiji leaned down, intending to put on his shoes so that he could leave, could get the fresh air he badly needed. The endless, wandering walk he wanted, to get as far away from everything—from _him_ as it was possible to get on foot. Seiji didn’t get so far even as his shoes. Nicholas caught him by the arm, held him firm. _Fine,_ Seiji thought. If this was how Nicholas wanted to do this, so be it.

“You’re upset.”

“You’re a nuisance.”

“Are you mad at me?” Nicholas asked. He looked so worried, so concerned. Seiji sneered. “You are, aren’t you? You’re mad that I beat you.”

“I’m mad that you _exist,”_ Seiji snarled it with such animosity that Nicholas flinched. Actually _flinched._ That gave him pleasure too, fierce and ugly.

“I’m sorry. I got so carried away with my own success that I forgot that you—I’ve been insensitive. You were amazing, really. Number two isn’t so bad.” _Number two._ Seiji was sick of that rank, had been trying to shed it for so long. “But it sucks losing. I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t change anything—I mean, I hope we can still be friends?” Nicholas looked so dejected, like it had finally gotten through his thick skull that Seiji would _never_ be friends with him. Not now. Not anymore. He liked being the best, wouldn’t tolerate being second best. Least of all to _Nicholas Cox,_ the upstart nobody that had taken the fencing world by storm.

“Let go of me,” Seiji said, trying to yank his arm from Nicholas’s grasp. But he didn’t let go.

“Please, we can get over this,” he knew he was doomed, so why did he keep trying? Seiji thought of a hundred terrible, cruel things he could say. Things that would make Nicholas let go of him, stumble away as if hit, possibly, he thought with malicious glee, he could make Nicholas cry. It would be so easy to hurt him. He’d made it so easy for Seiji.

The fool had gone and fallen in love with him. No one with any sense would love someone so fundamentally hateful and mean. And he hadn’t ever tried to hide it, either. He’d never said anything on the matter, but it was obvious to anyone with a brain. The way his eyes always trailed on Seiji, the way he smiled for him, the way he talked and joked at him as if he were actually any fun to be around. Seiji had never understood it, and now he resented it. That Nicholas had thought he could ruin Seiji’s plans and get anything more from him than tolerance. Nicholas had made a mistake in loving Seiji. And he’d live to regret it. Seiji would make sure of it.

Seiji pulled free of Nicholas with violent force, but he didn’t storm away. Instead, he grabbed Nicholas’s face and smashed it to his, kissing him with every ill emotion he had. Nicholas couldn’t help but to respond. His arms were around Seiji’s waist, pulling his body forward to close the gap Seiji had ignored in favor of the kiss. And Nicholas kissed back, too. Like he’d been waiting eons for this. It had been months at the most. But Nicholas made up for lost time and then some.

Seiji wrapped arms around Nicholas’s neck, had one hand still holding his head, making sure it didn’t slip away from his. He was not gentle, was not even nice about it. Harsh, ragged breaths and hard, purposeful kisses. Nicholas’s fingers bunched into the fabric of his shirt, wrinkling it horribly. Seiji didn’t care. Kissed harder. He didn’t care about much of anything right now but for his burning hatred for the boy he was kissing.

“Seiji—,” Nicholas tried to pull away. Seiji didn’t let him.

“Hush.” This time, Nicholas seemed to put up the tiniest struggle against his lips, resisting the movement, still trying to say something. Seiji didn’t care to hear it, so he bit, hard, on Nicholas’s bottom lip. _That_ garnered a reaction. Nicholas growled and gave up on fighting it. In retaliation for Seiji’s teeth, Nicholas responded with a vicious sort of resolve, wrestling the kiss from Seiji’s control. Seiji let him have it, let him take his mouth with deep, devastating maneuvers of tongue and lips. And teeth, too. Tugging relentlessly at his raw lips. Never so painfully as Seiji had used his. Seiji hated that. Hated that even in retribution of a hurt, Nicholas didn’t— _wouldn’t_ —return it in kind, giving pleasing sensations instead of painful ones. He was a fool of the worst kind. 

Seiji might have lost to him, but he’d still ruin him. It was fair, in a way. If Nicholas had only kept his ambitions within constraints befitting of someone like him, if he’d only stayed away from Kings Row and proper training and Coach Williams and the team to help him, if he’d only stayed away from _Seiji_ —

Seiji raked fingernails across Nicholas’s scalp, closing his hand and taking a fistful of hair tightly, painfully, in it. His blood boiled, not sated even by Nicholas’s reaction of slight discomfort to the grip. _Now do you see?_ He thought, _If you’d only stayed away, it wouldn’t hurt so bad._ Seiji would be at the top, in his rightful place. He’d beaten Jesse. _Jesse_ was supposed to be his final obstacle, his last opponent to defeat. The thing standing between him and what he wanted most. _All_ he wanted.

But Nicholas had usurped them both. Beating Jesse held almost no sense of accomplishment, despite it being the thing he’d worked for all this year. Because it had never occurred to him that beating Jesse and winning nationals were not one and the same. His own pride had blinded him to Nicholas’s threat. And now…Nicholas would pay for it.

Seiji released Nicholas’s hair, let go of his face, drew both hands down his body as he stepped away. Just slightly. Enough to see Nicholas’s face clearly. Swollen lips, slightly parted in question. Eyebrows drawn low in puzzlement. Eyes full of a dozen emotions. Concern. Confusion. Hurt. Hope. Lust. Seiji could work with that. Deliberately, he brought his hands to his collar, pushed the button there through its hole. He saw something new on Nicholas’s face, seeming innocent and small and ignorable—angry red crescent moons across his cheek, where Seiji’s nails had bit into skin. Good. Let every hurt be painted clearly across his skin. Seiji met Nicholas’s eye, smirked, popped open another button, just below the last one.

Nicholas’s eyes widened, darting between Seiji’s eyes and his hands, deftly undoing his shirt. His breathing was heavy, like he was unable to recover at all from the kissing. Seiji’s own chest heaved, but it was under control. Nicholas opened his mouth, about to speak. Seiji narrowed his eyes dangerously, and he must have looked fierce and wild, because Nicholas closed his mouth again. But worry was overtaking his countenance now. _Damned buttons,_ he couldn’t get them out fast enough. He was losing Nicholas’s attention—the kind of attention that would distract him from his worrying and questions.

Exasperated, reckless, _mad,_ Seiji growled and tore at his shirt, pulling even more buttons free. Not all of them, but it would do. Close enough. Nicholas stared at him in alarm for the single moment it took him to step back into a kiss. Lust was winning, it had to be; Nicholas gave no objections. He grabbed Seiji roughly, with desperate, wanting hands.

When Seiji broke from the kiss next, it was to tilt his head back, partly for air, partly to offer a transition for Nicholas to take to what would come next. Nicholas took the hint easily enough. There was so much skin available for him to choose from—more than Seiji _ever_ allowed anyone to see. Not out of modesty, per se, but a sense of disdain and intolerance for people looking on him. Nicholas, who had long coveted him, would be distracted by this offering of skin. Skin he could see, and touch, and kiss. He did all these things now, but too slowly.

Seiji didn’t want to draw this out. He wanted it over and done with. He wanted to see the look on Nicholas’s face when he laughed and coldly told him that he didn’t love him. That he never would. It would crush Nicholas, he knew. The boy was a fool. He’d take this cruel gift of skin and pleasure and derive from it _hope_. Seiji would take that from him, and any disillusions also of continued relations between them. He’d make it as unbearable for Nicholas to see him as it was for Seiji to see Nicholas.

Impatiently, Seiji maneuvered his hands up Nicholas’s shirt, intent on getting things moving faster. He’d have pulled the shirt off if Nicholas were in any position to allow that right now. Nicholas made a noise of approval, kissing a hickey into Seiji’s chest, already littered with bruises from épées. But then Nicholas pulled away. No, more than that, he _pushed_ Seiji away. Eyes downcast, Nicholas’s panting breath slowly evened out. Seiji touched the hickey, which Nicholas had just abandoned. It throbbed oddly. In no way was it like the marks left by a blade.

“Seiji,” Nicholas said, not looking to him. As if there was something shameful in looking. “What are you doing?”

“Look at me,” Seiji demanded. Nicholas did not. “ _Look at me_ when you’re talking to me,” he said again, voice so steely and commanding that Nicholas, finally, did. Seiji trailed his fingers from the sensitive skin they’d been examining on his chest, up to his collarbone, across his shoulder. Never losing eye contact with Nicholas, he pushed the fabric of his shirt off his shoulder, let his hand drop. Then, in one fluid motion, Seiji shrugged off his mostly opened shirt to let it settle and pool at his elbows and hips. Nicholas’s eyes were all pupil. All lust. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

“I—,” Nicholas looked at Seiji’s bared shoulders and chest, at the erotic bunching of fabric low on his waist. Looked back up to his face. It seemed to take every ounce of strength Nicholas had to choke it out: “No.” Seiji would have stung from the rejection if he either cared _or_ believed it. He did neither, and so his pride took no damage.

“Don’t lie,” Seiji said, advancing on him. “I know you do. You want _this_ ,” he gestured to himself, messy and exposed. Nicholas’s eye twitched, but he took a step back for every step Seiji took forward. He backed himself right into the wall and had nowhere to go as Seiji pressed into him.

“Seiji—,” he gasped, lost track of whatever it was he’d intended to say as Seiji took his wrist, pressed his hand to his chest and leaned into it. Nicholas was almost to breaking point.

“I know you want me,” he whispered against Nicholas’s ear. “So _take_ me.”

Nicholas broke, just as Seiji had known he would. With a guttural snarl, Nicholas grabbed him, flipped them around so that Seiji was the one pressed against the hard wall. Seiji smiled, self-satisfied. Nicholas pinned one of his hands to the wall, up by his head. Held the other wrist tightly, locked into place near his thigh. Seiji’s heart beat fast. Faster than it ever had before. He knew this was a bad idea. _This_ was no way to treat people—himself or Nicholas. He recognized it was a twisted thing to do.

He didn’t care.

“Seiji, _please,”_ Nicholas rasped, looking strained and desperate. “Stop it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there’s a lot of ways to play the probable outcome of Nick beating Seiji at fencing and I have soft, sweet moments in my mind for this too, but I decided to write it this way first— bitter and mean. Just like me <3


	2. Chapter 2

Seiji only blinked at him in complete surprise. It took everything in Nick to hold back. Whether from kissing Seiji senseless or punching him or crying or some combination thereof, he wasn’t really sure. But this had to stop. A frown grew on Seiji’s face, and Nick was kind of relieved by how familiar that was. Nothing like the hollow expressions he’d worn since Nick had come in tonight. Determined, sure. Angry, yeah, that too. Maybe even a little wanting. But under that? Nothing. Hollow and cold and terrifying.

“Promise me,” Nick forced, “that you’ll cut it out. If I let you go. Please.”

“Think carefully about what you’re requesting,” Seiji said, seeming unaffected by anything that had digressed and speaking as he always did in that same mildly superior way he had. “You won’t get another chance like this. I can promise you that.”

Nick closed his eyes. “I know. But you’re wrong,” he opened his eyes, found Seiji’s. “I don’t want this.” His voice was steady and sure, his equilibrium finally returning to him. A muscle in Seiji’s jaw twitched, as if he was angered by this. Or upset in some other way. But, no, that was just wishful thinking.

“Fine, then. Let me go.”

Nick did. He let go of Seiji’s wrists and levered himself away from him. Seiji didn’t move. He didn’t even drop his hand from the wall for a handful of excruciatingly long seconds. Seeing him sprawled there against the wall, hair a disaster and lips red as blood…it made Nick ache for the things he couldn’t have. When Seiji’s hand finally did drop, it was to finger again at the single hickey Nick had— _stupidly—_ managed to place there. And it was longer still before he saw fit to push himself off the wall.

“I suppose,” Seiji said slowly, “that congratulations are in order.”

Nick didn’t respond. It wasn’t a congratulation. It was an accusation. He should have seen this coming. He’d seen how Seiji was about Jesse. He ought to have known that it would be the same between them if he ever managed to beat Seiji. _And I did,_ he thought, still with amazement. He was ranked first in individual épée in the _nation._ He glanced at Seiji, then away quickly. He’d thought—but he’d been dumb. He’d thought that Seiji and he were better than this. He’d thought they were closer than Seiji had been with Jesse. He’d thought they’d be okay. He’d thought, maybe, Seiji might even be a little happy for him. Proud at how far he’d come.

But in winning the title, Nick had lost Seiji. He knew he should be mad at Seiji. Could guess at what his plan had been, in doing all of—of _this._ But he couldn’t be, not when he looked at Seiji, still taken apart and partially disrobed. He just looked so…desolate. Nick should have seen how much losing would hurt Seiji. How much losing to _him_ would hurt Seiji. He didn’t feel bad for winning. Was, in truth, a little irritated at Seiji for losing with such ill grace. He’d worked hard to win. But so had Seiji. And, in the end, only one of them _could_ win. He’d have handled it better, though.

“Seiji, I—,” but he didn’t know what to say. What could be said to fix this? He desperately wanted to know. But he had no clue.

“Is that all you know how to say?” Seiji asked with a disdainful look. “It’s half of all you’ve said tonight. _Seiji,_ ” he did an unkind approximation of what Nick knew he’d sounded like when Seiji had been kissing him.

“It’s half of all I think about,” he said quietly, soft and sincere for Seiji to do with as he pleased. “But you know that.” Strangely, color bloomed high on Seiji’s cheekbones, the only flush of the night resulting from anything besides anger or exertion.

“And yet you scorned the only chance you’ll ever have with me. I don’t return your feelings.”

“I know,” Nick snapped. He forced himself to take a deep breath. Calmer, “I know. But do you think you can forgive me?”

“For winning?” Seiji asked, and Nick let himself pretend that Seiji would laugh and ask why he’d need to forgive Nick for _that._ He let himself pretend that he’d somehow offended Seiji in a different way, over something that could be easily apologized for. “No.”

“Not even, like, eventually? Ever?”

“No.”

“That’s unfair,” Nick told him, hurt kindling anger. “You _humiliated_ me the first time we fenced, do you remember? I forgave you for that. And I was nice tonight, wasn’t I? A little insensitive, I guess, but I didn’t gloat. I—if it had been you that’d won, I’d have been happy for you. I wouldn’t even have needed to forgive you.”

“I’m not nice,” Seiji said with an uncaring shrug. “It’s your own fault for falling for me. For thinking there’s more to me than that. There isn’t. I’m _not nice._ And I don’t plan to do anything with you besides beat you next year, same as I beat Jesse this year. You won’t have that title for long, so enjoy it while it lasts.”

Nick felt his own cheeks heat. _It’s your own fault for falling for me._ Seiji had known for ages about his feelings. Nick had suspected it, but it hadn’t bothered him. He’d thought there might be a time in the future when he could properly pursue Seiji, but until then, he’d seen no need to make any efforts to either conceal or declare his feelings. But to have Seiji talk of them so flippantly, so harshly…it sucked. Plain and simple.

This was all made much worse by Seiji’s decision to stay as he was, with his crumpled white shirt unbuttoned, _ripped_ open, almost all the way, and shoved carelessly, sensually, down his body. It exposed more skin than Nick had ever seen from Seiji at any one time. Pale skin broken up by bruises from recent bouts, and, most notably, the hickey Nick himself had put there. Seeing Seiji like this just made Nick want to grab him and do more. He tried not to stare, but it was impossible to avoid. It was like an invitation to stare, the pretty and scandalous picture Seiji’s form painted. Goosebumps rose on Seiji’s skin, and Nick noticed that his nipples looked enticingly hard too—likely also a result of the chill. _Why doesn’t he put on a shirt if he’s so cold?_ But then Nick caught Seiji’s smirk and he knew why. Seiji was deliberately reminding Nick of what he couldn’t have. What he’d given up.

“You’re an asshole,” Nick said, but he couldn’t collect enough anger together in him to have any bite behind the words. Seiji only gave a slight tilt to his chin, as if he agreed with this statement. “But I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you so fucking much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nick going from piddly ass ‘Zero’ to best fencer in the NATION in six months? Yeah, I’m not any more impressed with that bit of figuring than you guys are. My original plan was longer but listen. That would mean Bobby and Eugene would have to graduate/have graduated by this year. And I needed Bobby. And I wanted Eugene. So suck my dick. Or actually suck Bobby’s dick because this is all _his_ fault. wait no my point was to thank you for working with me on this one and rolling with it <3  
>  ~~you don’t have to suck any dicks~~
> 
> also look i drew a thing. and no, i didn't make any effort to clean it up for you guys but im a writer not an artist so i figured you wouldn't mind  
> 


	3. Chapter 3

Summer went at once surprisingly fast and alarmingly slow. Seiji was used to time slipping together into a long stream of sameness. He liked it that way. His years were marked primarily by the fencing season and nationals and all the preparation that surrounded them, rather than by the school year. Vacation and school differed very little for him in the larger scheme of things. But this year, he was conscious of how much time was left before he’d be moving back into the dorms at Kings Row.

His feelings towards that were as paradoxical as the speed with which summer was passing. Seiji was startled to find himself pleased and possibly excited at the prospect of going back to school. But he dreaded it, also. The root of both these emotions met in the presence of Nicholas Cox at that same school. They’d parted on poor terms at the end of the school year. Perhaps more accurately, they’d parted on no terms. Seiji had made it clear, _that night,_ that he had no intention of continuing his friendship with Nicholas. He’d finished out the school year avoiding Nicholas and ignoring him and pretending not to care, or to notice, when he was around. Or when he wasn’t. Nicholas had gotten with the program quickly. With much less of a fight than Seiji had anticipated, truth be told.

Seiji had expected more consequences than awkward silences and forlorn stares. He’d expected to be issued a new roommate. But Nicholas had disappeared for a week only, presumably bunking with his friends, and then returned to their room as if nothing had happened. But there was no pretending nothing had happened, even if they never talked about it. It was present in the quiet room, left empty for long hours and void of all warmth or happy chatter even on the rare occasion two bodies had filled it. It was present in the snide remarks from Aiden and the complicated frowns from Eugene and Harvard where before there had been, if not friendship, then camaraderie. It was present in the way Seiji shrank away from all evidence and memory of it, in a way he wasn’t used to shrinking away from anything. But they’d pretended anyway. That nothing had happened. That they didn’t care.

After two months of pretending not to care at all, Seiji had started to acknowledge how lonely it was without Nicholas there to bother him constantly. Nicholas had other friends, and had slipped fully back into those social circles easily enough. Seiji had been friendly with the fencing team, and even some people off it, but he didn’t have friends. All of that had been Nicholas—Nicholas pulling him down to sit on the grass with the team, or tugging him along on outings with any variety of classmates. Those friends had never been Seiji’s. He didn’t mind that. At least, he’d never minded it before. It was just that he’d grown so used to Nicholas that his absence felt like a physical thing now.

He’d tried, exactly once, to rectify their friendship.

_“If you’re not going to strip for me again, I’ve got more interesting things to do.”_

He hadn’t been willing to try again after that. It had only been a moment of weakness, besides. Seiji still felt horrible rage when he thought of Nicholas beating him. He couldn’t get over it. He knew this about himself: he did not forget or forgive and he could hold a grudge for longer than most people could remember the wrong done in the first place. Even if he had mended his relations with Nicholas before summer, it wouldn’t have worked. He wouldn’t have been able to _let_ it work.

But now, halfway into the summer, he missed Nicholas even more. It was bizarre and unwelcome, but it was there.

“Seiji, focus,” Coach Dmytro called and Seiji snapped back to attention, aghast at himself for losing focus during fencing. But it had been happening more and more recently, despite his resolve to beat Nicholas at nationals this year, despite that he loved fencing more than he loved anything. He kept losing focus. And Coach Dmytro knew it as well as he did. Half an hour later, he called a halt to the lesson.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, looking down at Seiji as he had since Seiji was a child. He was frowning, but there was some worry to his expression, not just disappointment. “What is happening in your head that is stopping you from fencing?”

“It’s unimportant,” Seiji replied. “I’ll take care of it. My apologies for my recent—,”

“Stop with that.” It was not said unkindly, though Coach Dmytro’s low voice, serious by nature, made people take his words as harsher than they were meant. It had certainly caused Seiji to cry on multiple occasions in his youth before he’d become acquainted with his coach well enough to understand that he was blunt, to the point, and didn’t mind hurting feelings. But he was not unkind. “Tell me what’s happening. I’m experienced in life, not just in fencing. So tell me and I’ll see what I can do to help.”

“It’s not something you can help with.”

“Try me, Seiji. Or we’ll be here all day.” Coach Dmytro crossed his arms and settled in to wait. Seiji had been met with this method once before, when he was nine and had stolen one of Coach Dmytro’s blades and accidentally dropped it down a riverbank he’d been practicing on. He’d broken then, and he’d break now. But not yet. He could pretend, as he had then, that he could withstand his coach’s withering look, his raised eyebrow, made all the more prominent for the scar running through it. Seiji remembered liking that scar quite a lot when he was younger. He’d thought it cool. Ruggedly handsome. He’d thought the man attached to that scar to be those things, too.

It had been a long time since Seiji had thought of his crush on his coach, but it came back to him now. It had started when he was nine, around the time he’d pillaged the épée from Coach Dmytro’s bag. He’d always admired the man, always wanted to be like him. He’d been shy as a child, and Dmytro had always tolerated his clinging. So much as it could be called that—Seiji had _never_ been one for grabbing onto legs or refusing to leave an adult’s side. But he had always preferred to be with Dmytro, and it had always been allowed.

He’d imagined growing up and fencing against his coach as equals when he’d been on that riverbank, Dmytro’s blade in his hand. He’d wanted Dmytro to notice him, to like him. As he’d thrust into a full lunge, it had occurred to him that he liked Dmytro rather more than one was supposed to like their personal coach. He’d fumbled the lunge, lost his footing on the bank, and the blade had tumbled into the river. Seiji hadn’t known before then that he was gay. He supposed other children weren’t entirely sure of what they were at that age either. It had been a shock to find the truth in a single moment. A shock like the bite of the cold and fast-moving water as he’d splashed in after the épée. He had not been able to retrieve the blade.

“I’m distracted by my loss at nationals,” Seiji admitted after nearly twenty minutes under Coach Dmytro’s stare. He hadn’t lasted nearly so long as a child. It was humorous to him now, thinking back on his boyhood crush and his fantasies of marrying his coach. They’d faded, luckily, and if Dmytro had ever noticed, he’d had the good tact not to let on. But Seiji still cared for the man dearly. Enough that he might be willing to let him try to tease out the tangled thoughts and emotions Seiji kept under lock and key.

“That is understandable,” Dmytro said, though it was not. “You were agitated by the Coste boy last year too. I remember how a mention of that match could make you sloppy for hours after.” A pause, which Seiji made no effort to fill. “But this is different. Why?”

“Because I lost to _him,”_ he hadn’t meant for it to come out with such animosity. Hadn’t meant to give so much away.

“Nicholas Cox,” Coach Dmytro said, and to hear him say Nicholas’s name aloud gave Seiji a little jolt.

“Yes,” though it hadn’t been a question.

“Are you distracted by the loss or the boy?”

“Both.”

“I see.” That same patient demeanor, those waiting eyes. Seiji’s own eyes darted across the salle in an effort to avoid them.

“He was my roommate. At Kings Row.”

“Cox was?”

“Yes.”

“Did you get along?”

“Well enough.”

“And after nationals?”

“Not really.”

“This bothers you.”

“I…yes, it does.” Exasperated, Seiji sighed. There wasn’t a way out of this, not if he wanted to fence anytime in the next week. “But I can’t—I’m not nice. I don’t get over things. I _can’t_ get over nationals. Every time I think about Nicholas, I get angry. I can’t be friends with someone I’m always mad at. But you’re not my therapist so it’s not in your job description to deal with it.”

“You don’t have a shrink, Seiji, for all you might need one,” the barest hint of a smile. “I’m the closest you’ve got.” He was the closest Seiji had to a lot of things, in honesty. “So let me tell you what your options are—,”

“I _know_ my options,” Seiji said in a rare instance of impudence. But really, the _options_ were obvious. He could get over it and try to salvage his friendship with Nicholas; he could get over _Nicholas_ , as he’d planned to do from the start; or he could refuse to get over either and suffer the consequences, either alone or dragging Nicholas down with him. Coach Dmytro frowned at him, unused to such childish sulk. Seiji bit his tongue and nodded for Dmytro to go on.

“You can be angry and bitter and lonely. Or you can be happy.” _That_ was a little oversimplified, Seiji felt. There were other factors to consider than just _do you want to be happy or miserable?_ But Coach Dmytro only raised that eyebrow again and asked, in all seriousness, “Which would you prefer?”

It was not a rhetorical question, and Seiji resisted the urge to grind his teeth at being forced to say something so juvenile. “Happy. I’d rather be happy.”

“Then do what it is that will get you there. Will you be more happy winning nationals next year without this boy to congratulate you? Or would you rather do your best—which is extraordinary, Seiji, we both know that,” Seiji blinked in surprise; it was rare for Dmytro to praise him directly and without any strings attached, “ _and_ have Nicholas be there to support you, no matter how you place? Just think on it.”

“I realize that I’d be happier with Nicholas, but, Coach, I can’t just _decide_ to not care that he beat me. That he’s—,” _Better than me._ He couldn’t say it.

“Sure you can,” Dmytro said simply, flipping on his mask and taking several steps backward. “You just have to commit to it, the way you would to an attack.”

Seiji took the cue and pulled on his own mask, raised his épée. As he fenced with Coach Dmytro, his mind began to clear, little by little. _Commit._ He caught Dmytro’s blade in a bind, scored a point. _Commit._ A flèche this time. _Commit._ An opening in seventh. _Commit._ Again and again. _Commit, commit, commit._

“Much better,” Coach Dmytro said, signaling for their session to end. Seiji thanked him and left the salle. He’d made his decision. He’d get over his loss at nationals. By the time school started, he’d be ready to accept that Nicholas had beaten him. They could be friends again.

As Seiji stepped into the warm summer sun, goosebumps erupted across his skin and he felt _it_ again—that shock like cold water threatening to carry him away.


	4. Chapter 4

Nick was glad to be back at school. He couldn’t wait to catch up with everyone—though he’d seen Eugene a couple of times and Bobby once, and they had a massive group chat—Nick, Gene, Bobby, Harvard, Aiden, Tanner, Kally, and even Dante— that was always blowing up his phone, it wasn’t the same as _seeing_ them the way he got to at school. They all lived so far apart, and had such different schedules, that getting together just hadn’t happened, even though they’d talked about it tons. He’d miss all the seniors, graduated and off to college now, but he still had Bobby and Eugene, and he’d always been closest with them, anyway.

God, next year would suck without them.

Bobby was the first person he saw. Well, _saw_ was the wrong word. He didn’t see Bobby, but rather _felt_ him as he was tackled in a hug. Laughing delightedly, Nick used the momentum to swing Bobby around in a circle.

“One of the only good things about being so short,” Bobby told him seriously, “is that I get the best bear hugs.”

“I’ve missed you and your short little legs,” Nick grinned, setting him down to ruffle his hair. Bobby swatted his hand away and pretended to fix his pigtails, but Nick knew he loved having his hair played with.

“Eugene’s here already, drop your stuff in your room and let’s get going!”

“Right, where is registration?” Bobby stared at him. “Last year, Harvard gave me the tour, so I didn’t pick up my own key or anything. So…where do I go for, like, room assignments?”

“Oh, honey, no,” Bobby laughed, and Nick scowled at him. “Same rooms as last year. We don’t change unless someone’s left.”

“Oh.” Nick’s stomach knotted slightly thinking of room 108. “Same roommates then, too, I’m guessing?”

“You got it!” Bobby grabbed up his hand and started tugging him along. “But, you know, maybe you’re not so dumb. Just remembered that you _do_ need to come check in with Regan to get your key back. I’ll show you the way.”

“Right, thanks.” Nick dragged his feet on the way to Regan, and even more on the way to the dorms. Bobby chittered happily, but not even his good mood could miss Nick’s bad one. He squeezed Nick’s hand tight as they entered the building, which Nick would live in all school year, same as he had last year.

“Maybe he’ll be better about it,” Bobby said softly. No question who _he_ was. “With some time and distance. You never know.”

“Time and distance never made him like Jesse any better.” There was nothing to say to this point. Bobby just looked troubled and lost, as he had whenever the topic of Seiji had come up since nationals. Nick hadn’t told anyone, of course, about _what_ exactly had transpired between them. Everyone had just assumed that Seiji had been upset over the loss and they weren’t friends anymore. It was true. But they didn’t know how bad it all had gotten. But Bobby adored Seiji and, in his eyes, Seiji could do no wrong. So reconciling his idol with the kind of shitty friend Seiji had been was hard for Bobby. Nick tried to keep his Seiji troubles to himself because of it.

And because of the way the other guys acted, too. Eugene had gone right to cursing Seiji out for his behavior, unimpressed by the way he’d ditched them all—Nick, in particular. Aiden would sprinkle ambiguously mean comments into conversations, though they were often jabs at Nick as much as they were at Seiji. Harvard was quietly disappointed with Seiji. Tanner was worse than Eugene, always saying Seiji got what was coming to him. Kally was the only one who had tried to mediate. If Nick _had_ ever wanted to talk about Seiji, he’d have gone to Kally to do it. He didn’t like how hostile moods would get when Seiji came up these days. Felt like standing up for Seiji or something stupid like that. He had, once. Eugene had looked at him pityingly and told him he was just trying to see the best in Seiji because he liked him.

Maybe Nick was. He knew he should be more pissed at Seiji than anyone. More pissed than they even knew he should be. And he was. Sometimes. But mostly, he just missed Seiji and that made every other feeling pale in comparison. He could have done with a new room assignment, though. After nationals, he’d considered asking Williams to move him. She would have if he’d explained properly why he wanted it but, in the end, he couldn’t. Maybe he was dumb but he didn’t want to get Seiji in trouble, much as he deserved it. Maybe he was even dumber because a part of him had hoped things could settle into normalcy. They hadn’t. Nick had spent a week stewing in Bobby and Dante’s room—both occupants of which had been concerned and urged him to talk with Williams if it was ‘really this bad’—and then he’d stubbornly made himself back at home in his own bed, in his own room.

Seiji had ignored him, just like he’d ignored him when he’d left. He hadn’t gotten mad again, though, or done anything at all. So Nick had stayed. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been glad it was near the end of the year. Thinking of a whole new year spent in a stifling room with Seiji was a bleaker way to start off the year than he really wanted to admit.

Nick had worried he might find Seiji already installed in their room, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he opened the door to an empty and bare room. Bobby helped him unpack, and he was beginning to settle down and think that he could do this. He could face Seiji. It couldn’t be that bad.

The door swung open and in stepped Seiji Katayama, looking every bit as frustratingly beautiful as he had three months ago. Bobby gave a little squeak of alarm. Nick could relate. Seiji took in the room with casual disinterest, registering Bobby, whom he nodded to in greeting, and, finally, looking to Nick. Seiji’s lips parted, like he intended to speak. Nick grimaced at the memory of the _last_ time Seiji had seen fit to speak directly to him.

_“I’ve considered it, and it’s possible I could be convinced to forgive you. It’s not your fault, I suppose, that you got lucky.”_ He’d said it with such snide contempt that Nick had been reminded of why he’d hated Seiji when they’d first been thrown together. It was like he was taking away Nick’s victory, discrediting his hard work and skill and improvement. He wanted to take that away from Nick any way he could. Wanted to taint it and turn it sour. Just as he had _that_ night.

“Hey, Seiji, hope you had a good summer,” Nick said quickly, before Seiji could say whatever it was he’d meant to. Then he sprang up, grabbing Bobby’s hand and pulling him up too. “Come on, Bobby! We were going to meet up with Eugene.”

“Oh, but—,” Bobby said, then stopped at a look from Nick. “Right! Okay, let’s, um, go? Nice seeing you Seiji!” Bobby called as he was pulled out the door. They were outside and under the sun’s unforgiving heat when Nick finally stopped pulling so hard. “Nick,” Bobby said, a little out of breath from their dash through the dorms.

“What?” Nick asked as Bobby dug in his heels, pulling them to a stop.

“He looked sad.”

“What?”

“The way we ran from Seiji,” Bobby said, taking his hand from Nick’s so he could cross his arms and frown up at him. “He looked sad.”

“Seiji doesn't _do_ sad, Bobby. You’re projecting.”

“You should talk to him,” Bobby insisted stubbornly.

“It’s never worked before, why would it now?”

“I’m serious, he was upset.”

“If he was upset, it’s because he’s gotta share a room with me—the lucky bastard who beat him.” He refrained from adding _petty bitch_ to the end of his assessment.

“You really can’t read a room, can you? It was obvious that he wanted to talk to you. Alone. I was about to leave.”

“Were you?” Maybe Nick _was_ a little oblivious. He hadn’t noticed that at all.

“ _Yes._ Just…talk to him tonight, okay?”

“I’ll try,” Nick said, dubious. But this seemed to satisfy Bobby because, in an instant, he was on Nick’s arm and leading him to a patch of grass where Eugene was sitting with some of his friends. As Nick settled down next to Bobby, he thought of Seiji, almost against his will. It was habit to think of Seiji, one he hadn’t yet managed to break.

Nick wondered if Seiji was lonely, ditched so quickly on his first day back from summer, no group of friends waiting to greet him. The thought made him a little sad and a little guilty.

He decided to keep his word to Bobby and actually try to talk with Seiji tonight. Invite him to hang with the guys, maybe. They were his friends, too, even if Nick had taken them in the proverbial divorce. They’d all forgive Seiji, Nick knew it. They only kept up the attitude for his sake, walking on eggshells around his so-called broken heart.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys notice how for this whole month it's lining up so that the date is double the chapter number being posted? that's the good shit right there

Seiji spent the day inside. The cheerful burble of conversation and the shining sun didn’t fit his mood. Not even the temptation of reading under the warmth of the summer sky could entice him to venture outside. Nicholas’s voice had a way of carrying, especially when paired with Eugene’s. Seiji wouldn’t be surprised if he’d be able to hear Nicholas’s happy chatter with his friends from anywhere on campus.

So he stuck to the library and, mostly, to his room. He was itching to go to the gym, but he had no one to fence with and didn’t feel like running drills. Or, more honestly, didn’t feel like being walked in on when other students got the same idea. He consoled himself with the idea of early morning fencing with Coach Dmytro.

He didn’t anticipate Nicholas returning before evening time. Nicholas had made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to be anywhere near Seiji. That hurt, Seiji could admit it. He could also admit that he might deserve Nicholas’s apprehension. Seiji had been—cruel. Yes. He’d been cruel. But still, it hurt to have seen Nicholas dart from the room, dragging Bobby along behind him. He must have forgotten over the summer how changed his relationship with Nicholas was, how late Nicholas stayed out and how his eyes never met Seiji’s and his smiles never met his eyes for Seiji anymore.

_This is what you wanted,_ he reminded himself. Thinking back to that mind space and the terrible all-consuming rage of it, Seiji knew this was what he’d wanted at the time. To do something so awful to Nicholas that he wouldn’t be able to look at Seiji without feeling as terrible as Seiji had felt looking at Nicholas that night. He couldn’t expect to rectify that so quickly. If it was even possible at all. Thinking that they could be friends again had been painfully naive, now that Seiji thought on it. There were more than just his bitter feelings to account for in remaking their broken friendship.

The dorms had yet to turn on their air conditioning and the building was poorly ventilated, so Seiji’s room became hot and muggy before long, sweat beginning to gather and cling unpleasantly to his skin, adding to his foul mood. Focusing it onto something tangible and actionable. Kings Row had a personal mission to provide Seiji with the worst possible temperature at any given time. Half the time the AC was off, and the other half it was turned up far too high, and there was no telling what each new day would bring. He’d misjudged this morning when getting dressed for his first day back in the dorms and had put on a long-sleeved shirt. Seiji regretted that decision now, but it, at least, could be fixed easily enough.

He was in the process of _fixing it_ when Nicholas ambled through the door. It was long before the sun would set, and Seiji was entirely caught off guard seeing him so soon. He’d been so confident that Nicholas would stay as far away from him as possible for as long as possible that he hadn’t bothered to be cautious when he’d shed his shirt. He was struck with deja vu. Nicholas had walked in on him in a similar manner almost exactly one year ago.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Nicholas said, averting his eyes. Seiji flushed furiously, remembering another time Nicholas had looked away from his bare skin. Seiji was good at blocking _that_ particular memory most of the time. It filled him with hot shame and regret whenever it flashed in his mind. _That_ shirt was packed in the bottom of his bag with a sewing kit as an absolute last resort. He hadn’t been able to look at it long enough since wearing it the night after nationals to be able to mend the buttons he’d ripped from their place. A spot on Seiji’s chest started throbbing with a phantom sensation from long ago as the memory of it all confronted him in its entirety more fully than he’d permitted in months.

Seiji quickly tugged on his newly selected t-shirt.

“No, it’s my bad,” he said, too fast and stilted to be natural. He was sure that Nicholas was thinking of his failed and debauched seduction, too. He pursed his lips, tried to will them into speaking instead of pursing. But he’d lost his nerve for that when Nicholas had fled before Seiji had even said a word.

“So, uh, it’s good to see you?” Nicholas said hesitantly after the silence had dragged on for too long.

“Are you saying as much or are you asking me?” He could feel the shift between them, the joint sigh of relief. This was familiar territory. But it lasted only a moment before slipping back into the cold and distant place they'd created before summer break. “Was your summer enjoyable?”

“Yeah! Yeah, it was good. Good to be back though.”

“It is, isn't it?” The conversation was at its obvious end. Seiji couldn't afford to let it die. It set the precedent for their interactions all this year. The longer it stretched out like this, the harder it would be to convince himself to pick it up again. “I missed you. That is, I _do_ miss you.”

Nicholas only stared, like he hadn't heard or hadn't understood. Seiji waited. _There._ Nicholas's face turned to shock of the purest kind.

“You have?”

“Yes. I wanted to—,”

“Offer your forgiveness?” It had a definite bite of bitterness to it. Seiji was taken aback.

“No.” Nicholas looked upset at the answer, despite that it was the one he’d obviously wanted. “Apologize.”

“What? Why would I—?”

“I wanted to apologize. To you.” Seiji knew it was obvious that the words cost him a lot to say. Knew that he sounded every bit as reluctant and displeased as he was. He kept going. “You fenced well. At nationals. More than well. You were—amazing. And you deserved your win. Against me.”

“You really mean that?”

“Yes. I’m a little irritated you want me to say it again, but yes. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. I'm—Nicholas, I'm sorry.”

Nicholas took a moment the length of an eon to soak in Seiji’s apology. It was still unpleasant for Seiji to think of nationals. Try as he might, letting go of that bitterness was hard. Even after half the summer spent trying to unwind his anger, it still lingered. But he knew that, had their situations been reversed, Nicholas would have moped, but he also would have smiled for Seiji. Same as he'd smiled for him at his achievement of _second_ best épéeist. Same as he smiled for him now, slow at first but soon overtaking his whole face, all the way to his kind brown eyes. 

“Thank fuck for every shred of decency in your salty ass!” Seiji hardly had time to sort out whether this was an insult or simply one of the _many_ strange things Nicholas said with some level of affection before Nicholas was on him. Full body contact, something Seiji _never_ allowed to _anyone._ He was so startled by it that he didn't jerk away but let it happen, let himself be pulled to Nicholas’s chest. He even brought his arms cautiously around Nicholas's back in a return of the hug. “I missed you too.”

That wasn't so bad. Seiji thought he could probably tolerate the storm of emotions brought on by Nicholas these days if he got this in return. Carefree and easy affection, as if they could really be friends again. As if they'd ever been the sort of friends who exchanged such brazen touches. _The last time anyone was this close to me,_ Seiji thought absently, _I was against a wall._ He jolted, felt Nicholas stiffen and freeze. They'd both realized in the same instant what had happened the last time Seiji had forced himself into Nicholas’s arms.

Cheeks flaming, Seiji stepped out of Nicholas's friendly embrace and straightened his shirt, avoiding looking at Nicholas. Nicholas cleared his throat.

“So, like…we're cool?”

“Yes. Friends?”

“Friends.” Nicholas beamed again, seamlessly shedding the awkwardness of moments before. Seiji could not discard his own ill-ease so well. Nicholas seemed to find it easy to get over things. Slights against him, embarrassing moments, bad moods…crushes.

Seiji scolded himself mentally over that last one. Nicholas’s feelings had been hostilely chased away, with extreme and cruel purpose. He doubted if Nicholas would call getting over him _easy_ through mere virtue of how nasty Seiji had been to him over it.

“Hey, we were about to grab dinner. Do you want to come?” Nicholas asked, leaning over to rummage through a partially unpacked bag. He found what he was looking for—a wallet—and grabbed it up. Seiji's stomach sank.

“Is that why you came back so early?” He questioned. “Because you forgot your wallet?”

“Huh?” Nicholas looked down at the beaten black leather in his hand, then up at Seiji. Nicholas squinted at him and Seiji was suddenly aware that he was being selfish and unreasonable. He ought to be grateful that Nicholas had come back at all, let alone that he’d been willing to listen to Seiji. To forgive him to an extent.

“Have fun at dinner,” Seiji said, trying to cover up his unacceptable disappointment. “But it’s the first day back, try not to break curfew already.”

“I wasn't really planning on going at all, actually,” Nicholas spoke slowly, as if in the process of deciding whether to speak even as he did. “I thought we should probably talk before school got started. One way or the other, I couldn’t do a whole year like—you know.” Seiji did know. “But if you’re going to be cool again, then we should go hang.”

Seiji almost rolled his eyes, might have if he weren't so pathetically pleased that Nicholas _had_ come specifically to talk. But it was odd that he'd changed his mind. He'd been so against it mere hours ago. Nicholas grinned, seeming to read Seiji's thoughts.

“Bobby gave me an earful after I grabbed him and ran.”

“Ah. That makes sense.” How Bobby had managed to convince Nicholas into giving Seiji a chance to talk, Seiji had no idea. But it was lucky for Seiji that he had.

“So? Dinner?”

“I'm not sure if that's a good idea.”

“C’mon, the guys miss you.” Doubtful, but nice of Nicholas to say. “Please? In the name of our reformed friendship?”

“Fine,” Seiji agreed reluctantly. But it might be better than spending the night alone. And if it would help bridge the chasm Seiji had dug between himself and Nicholas…well, he'd do it. He'd committed to making things right between them, after all. Seiji suspected he would do just about anything in the name of their reformed friendship if Nicholas asked it of him.


	6. Chapter 6

It was great to have Seiji back. It was weird too. But mostly great. They weren't really the same as they had been before. Nick figured a fundamental part of their relationship had shifted just from him taking top rank at nationals, even disregarding all the shit that had happened after it.

It had always been a game of catch up. Nick had spent a year trying to be good enough to get Seiji to take him seriously as a rival. A year trying to beat him. Now that he had, the foundation for _them_ was gone. It was Seiji who was now determined to beat _him._ Which, honestly, happened a good deal during practice and casual bouts. They were really pretty evenly matched. But even so, Nick’s drive to take Seiji down was no longer binding them together. And maybe that was for the best, but it left an odd hole in the relationship for Seiji’s tempered anger to fill instead.

And _all the shit_ that had happened after nationals? They both did their best to ignore it, but it was harder now than it had been last year when they were just straight up ignoring each other. Now that they were talking again, it was different. Nick was suddenly way more aware of every time he accidentally or unthinkingly touched Seiji. He noticed every time Seiji wore the typical white button-down shirt of the Kings Row uniform. He knew Seiji did too and he felt bad for it. Tried not to let on how much he thought of that night. Despite how terrible it had been—the calculating anger in Seiji's eyes, the careful performance of intimacy, all for the purpose of hurting Nick, even though it had been obvious that Seiji was the one really hurting—it had still been Seiji, looking like _that,_ acting like _that,_ kissing like _that._ Nick couldn't completely write it off as an awful experience. Because it had also been, in the basest sense of the word, good. It had felt good, for all that it had felt wrong.

Nick knew Seiji regretted it. So they didn't talk about it. And that was okay. He was happy to pretend it was nothing, pretend that he didn't wish something like it would happen again, something less mean and more genuine. For Seiji, he could pretend that his feelings were all but gone. Nick wasn't used to having to hide his affections, it just wasn't who he was. But he was pretty proud of himself for somewhat convincingly playing the role of platonic best friend.

He jerked a little, that thought bouncing around his head. Flipping over in bed, Nick found himself looking out into the dark room, which, from this vantage, appeared mostly to consist of a familiar duck curtain. He'd put it up this year, a week into the semester. Last year it had been Seiji's thing, meant to separate them, to add distance, to make a barrier. But he'd been slow to do it this year, so Nick had taken it upon himself to hang it as a gesture. A peace offering.

“Hey, Seiji?”

“What do you need?” Seiji asked, sounding annoyed. Nick grinned. Seiji was a finicky sleeper. There was no telling if he'd been awake or if Nick’s voice had woken him up.

“I just thought of something.”

“What is it?” Trying to fall asleep or having just been woken from it, Seiji was obviously anxious to get back to it.

“Can we be best friends?”

“What?”

“I know you heard me.”

“You already have a best friend, Nicholas.”

“Actually, I've got a couple. I'd like to add you to the list if you don't mind.”

“That's not how best friends work.”

“What would you know about how best friends work?”

“You make a good point,” Seiji said after a pause in which Nick considered apologizing. “But the word _best_ implies that there is only one. The best one.”

“Well, then, you've gotta have as many best friends as there are types of _bestness_.”

“That's not a word.”

“Didn't realize you were a linguistics nerd.”

“Just go to bed.”

“No. Your bestness is different from my other best friend’s bestnesses, and I want it.”

“It doesn’t work that way. I’m your friend, but I’m not your _best_ friend. You don’t prioritize or care for me any more than you do your other friends.”

“In some ways, I do,” Nick said, but glided past this topic rather quickly. No need to raise suspicions about how much, exactly, he cared for Seiji. “But I’m your best friend, aren’t I?”

“How do you figure?”

“Well, I’m your closest friend, and I can say that for certain. You spend more time with me than anyone else, except that coach you have, I guess. You spend a lot of time with him. But that’s, like, fencing related. You don’t hang out with anyone more than me.” _I think you like me more than anyone else,_ but to say it would be presumptuous and possibly might suggest that Nick was maybe implying something more than the like between friends. He wasn’t, but he didn’t want Seiji to think he was.

“Congratulations, you are, by default, my best friend.”

“And you’re mine.”

“I’m _not._ ” Seiji sounded like he was getting agitated. “You can’t be the best if there are other _bests_ too.”

“Oh, fuck, there it is. The Seiji Philosophy _._ You’ve got a real problem with being anything other than definitively and singularly _the best_. Fencing, school, friendship. It’s not good enough for you if you’re not winning. You’ve got this need to be clearly and obviously ahead.”

“I don’t need a therapist, Nicholas.”

“Maybe you do. But I’m the closest you’ve got—,”

“I’m putting on my headphones now.”

“You’re mad. But I’m right.”

“I don’t need you to talk to about how I operate my life,” Seiji said tightly, leaving his headphones off for the first time Nick had known him to after declaring they were going on. “I don’t need you to analyze me and tell me I’m—what? Wrong? Not right? Broken?”

“I don’t think you’re broken. I just think it’s unhealthy, that’s all.” Nick sat up in bed, looking hard at the curtain as if he could see through it to Seiji. “If you can’t see that you’re enough without always having to top the fucking charts, you’ll break yourself.”

“That’s my business.”

“It’s not _just_ your business. It’s the business of people who care about you too.”


	7. Chapter 7

Seiji stared hard at the headphones he held in his hands. He should put them on. But he didn’t, he knew he wouldn’t. He never could anymore. Now that Nicholas was talking to him again, Seiji had a hard time ever shutting him down or tuning him out. Seiji twisted to sit against the wall, facing into the room. He wasn’t ready to give up the illusion that he might be able to scrounge up some self-respect and put on his headphones, so he kept them clenched in his hands even as he settled in to stare at the curtain that divided the room. That curtain mocked him every time he looked at it, reminding him of Nicholas cheerily hanging it up not even a week into their reformed friendship. Seiji avoided looking at the curtain whenever possible.

Nicholas was somewhere on the other side, trying to play the shrink. Seiji didn’t like it. Especially didn’t like how it reminded him of a conversation over the summer with Coach Dmytro. It was strange to think that Nicholas had taken the place of Dmytro in this and other ways, too. Dmytro had always been a stand-in for a lot of roles in Seiji’s life, far beyond that of just fencing coach. He hadn’t realized until Nicholas had so bluntly pointed it out tonight, but Dmytro no longer was the closest thing Seiji had to a friend—a close friend—a best friend. That was Nicholas’s role now.

And Seiji was trying his best not to be upset over not being Nicholas’s best friend in return. But he wasn’t good at not being the best. Which was ironic, considering how often he fell short.

“I’m serious,” Nicholas said, “I worry that you’ll never be happy. You can’t always win.”

“I know.” Obviously he knew.

“But that’s okay.”

“For you, maybe.”

“For you too. What do you have to prove?”

“You’re really terrible at this. Do you want me to say that I feel the compulsive need to excel because I’m desperate to prove myself worthy of love? Maybe I have some deep-rooted Daddy issues. Maybe I have some tragic backstory that’ll explain my behavior.” Seiji laughed. “Or _maybe_ I just like winning.”

“Alright, got it, you’re an asshole and you don’t like to lose. But I still think you should change your world view, it’s not a happy one. Winners versus losers and all that. It works in fencing, but friendship? Not so much.” This seemed to mark the end to the conversation. Thankfully. Seiji heard Nicholas yawn. “I’ve decided that I don’t need to ask your permission, anyway. You’re my best friend and that’s that.”

“ _One_ of your best friends,” Seiji corrected. “I won’t have you talk as if I were really _the_ best of your friends.”

“I can live with that compromise.” This time, Nicholas was well and truly done speaking.

Seiji hadn’t liked the conversation but he felt a little regretful at the quiet that fell over the room. He’d been asleep before Nicholas had woken him but now that his voice had petered out, Seiji missed it. He wondered if there was anything he could say, something soft and willing to yield in his unyielding world views, something that Nicholas would like to hear.

Seiji couldn’t come up with anything honest so he said nothing, staying still and silent as an artificial breeze started up in the room. The AC was on, then, and as perfectly inconvenient as ever. Seiji let the chill permeate his thin cotton nightshirt and watched as flimsy blue material was motivated into lazy movement in front of him. Considering its easy fluttering and the light that shone clearly through it, the cloth should not have felt like such a weighty barrier.

At last, Seiji slid back under his covers and pulled on his headphones long after they’d have provided any real use. He didn’t look again at the curtain Nicholas had hung up, but he could still feel it like a physical manifestation of the distance between them.

* * *

“You’ve sorted out your troubles, I see,” Coach Dmytro said, pulling off his mask after a Saturday practice. Seiji did the same, grabbing his water bottle for a drink before answering.

“I did,” he confirmed, hoping that would be the end of it. He glanced to the clock on the wall. 11:30. There’d be time for lunch and rest before team practice.

“Good. A clear mind makes for better fencing.” And that truly did seem to be the end of it.

“Do you think it’s unusual—,” Seiji blurted. He was slightly appalled with himself because Katayamas _didn’t_ blurt. But Dmytro’s eyes were on him, cool and level, waiting. “Do you think it’s strange that I—my desire to always place first…Is it wrong?”

“It’s a natural thing to want to excel and do well and place first for your efforts,” Dmytro said, and Seiji was relieved at this answer. Despite what Nicholas had said last night, he _wasn’t_ broken. “It’s hard to make it far in competitive sports if you don’t have that drive. It will get you far, Seiji. But the important thing is knowing when to channel it and when to rein it in. Competition has a way of ruining friendships, as I think you’ve already learned. Don’t let it.”

“Thank you, Coach,” Seiji said, and Dmytro nodded.

Seiji remained in the gym after Dmytro left, intending to cool down from the long hours of physical exertion. Nicholas wandered in not long after, meandering his way over to where Seiji stretched, though the entire gym was empty for his use.

“Finishing up?”

“Do you ask obvious questions because you’re genuinely unsure, or do you just do it to annoy me?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Nicholas said easily, then dove into a warmup.

In following with last night’s trend, the AC was cranked up too high, which resulted in Nicholas’s jacket staying on until he’d worked up a sweat. By that time, Seiji was sufficiently cool and had no reason to linger. But he lingered anyway. Long enough to watch Nicholas shed his jacket and toss it carelessly off to the side.

“You could at least put that by the wall,” Seiji scolded. Nicholas snorted.

“Why? No one else is here.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re used to it.”

“That’s not a good thing,” Seiji said, thinking of how accustomed he’d grown to Nicholas’s haphazard nature.

“Says you.”

“Yes, ‘says me,’ and I’m _also_ saying that you should put away your stuff so it’s not on the floor all the time.”

Seiji didn’t even get a verbal reply to that, just a tongue stuck out at him. Juvenile. But as Seiji watched him furtively, pretending still to be taking extra care in his stretching, he fought away the urge to smile. Summer vacation was not far enough behind them to be forgotten, and last spring was close behind that, but they were already back to their old ways. It felt good. And when Seiji finally packed up and left the gym, he felt lucky to be considered one of Nicholas’s best friends at all. Maybe he didn’t always need to be _the_ best. Maybe he could rein in his competitive nature here so he didn’t ruin this relationship again. Wanting Nicholas to like him best didn’t mean Seiji needed Nicholas to like him best in order to be grateful for what he had.

But when he returned to the gym three hours later and found Bobby hanging off of Nicholas—as he so often did—Seiji couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy. It wasn’t fair. Probably wasn’t healthy either, according to Nicholas. But Seiji wanted to surpass Bobby in Nicholas’s affections. The way he saw it, Bobby was _the_ best friend. Seiji wanted that title for himself but had no idea how to take it. Bobby and Nicholas had been inseparable since before Nicholas even liked Seiji at all.

And Bobby would only be spending more time with them, now that he was on the team. Seiji didn’t want to be mad over it but he was done lying to himself. He didn’t like to see the love plain on Nicholas’s face and in his actions whenever Bobby was near. There was no surpassing that. And, if there had been such a thing as matching it, Seiji had already thrown it away.

He wondered if his sordid thoughts were as plain to see as Nicholas’s adoration because Bobby yelped when Seiji joined them, waiting for Eugene and Coach Williams to finish talking and come start practice. But, as practice got underway, Seiji realized Bobby’s shy glances and alarmed sounds whenever he’d been caught casting them weren’t in reaction to Seiji’s menace at all.

“Bobby, get over your starstruck act,” Eugene said, having noticed it too. “How are we gonna be a team if you’re too busy working up the nerve to ask for Seiji’s autograph to actually fence with him?”

“Sorry!” Bobby’s blush was brilliantly pronounced and he buried his head in Nicholas’s chest, mumbling something that sounded to Seiji like _Do you think Seiji heard that?_ as if Seiji weren’t there at all and couldn’t easily hear everything. Nicholas chuckled and patted Bobby’s back consolingly, meeting Seiji’s eye over the top of his head with a glint of amusement. He shrugged as if to say _what can you do?_

Seiji had never done much. He’d never made an effort with Nicholas’s friends, least of all Bobby with stars in his eyes evident whenever he looked to Seiji.

“Eugene’s right,” Seiji said. Nicholas’s good humor was gone, turned to sharp suspicion. If Seiji hurt Bobby, he wouldn’t be forgiven. “I’m only your teammate, nothing worth fawning over. If you come out of there, I can help you with your counter riposte. You’re not having trouble with it because of your reach, it’s because you’re too slow.” Seiji felt uncomfortable under the combined stares of Nicholas and Eugene. “I was short, too, in under-twelves, remember? I can help you learn to mitigate your reach.” He wasn’t sure if adding this last statement had been productive at all, but it did get Bobby to pull away from Nicholas and collect his épée and mask.

“Thanks, Seiji! That’d be great,” Eugene said enthusiastically, clapping him on the back. Seiji nodded. But it was not for Eugene’s benefit that Seiji was trying to play nice. Nicholas smiled at Seiji over the top of Bobby’s head, which was currently disappearing into a mask.

Seiji would learn how to channel his competitive drive if it meant he got smiles like that one.


	8. Chapter 8

As the fencing season loomed before them, practices got frequent and intense. But it was after a particularly brutal session that some unexpected visitors came calling. Nick had sat down on the floor right in the middle of the gym when Eugene had finally called an end to the practice, and Bobby hadn’t made it much farther, hunched over by the wall after draining half his water bottle in one go. Even Seiji looked a little worse for wear, hair completely messed up by sweat and time spent under the mask.

“You are a sorry bunch without us, aren’t you?” A familiar voice chimed from the door, and Nick shot to his feet out of pure habit. Because chances were, if _that_ voice was here, then Nick’s former captain wasn’t far behind.

“Aiden! Harvard!” Bobby squealed, making a beeline for them. “I made the team!” He sang, skidding to a halt right in front of them.

“We know, you bombarded the group chat endlessly.” But Aiden was smiling as he said it.

“We knew you’d make it,” Harvard said. “And the rest of you, too. You ready for your first match?”

“We’re getting there,” Eugene reported. “You know how it is.”

“Yeah,” Harvard grinned, clapping Eugene on the back. “And congratulations, Captain. I couldn’t have chosen a better successor.” Eugene puffed up at that, and Nick knew it meant a lot to him to have Harvard’s approval.

“Kally and Tanner too busy kissing to come visit us?” Nick asked, finally joining the throng by the doors.

“Too busy with midterms, actually,” Aiden corrected. “Not everyone can take time out of their busy schedules to come visit little baby high schoolers.”

“They wanted to come,” Harvard assured them. And from there it dissolved into conversation about school and general updates, but Nick was only partially listening because he noticed that Seiji wasn’t with them. He’d hung back and was now looking a little too interested in storing his mask away. It occurred to Nick that Seiji hadn’t parted ways with Harvard or Aiden as friends last year. Not that they’d ever been close but…his behavior after nationals had been distant and off-putting and Nick wasn’t sure they’d really talked at all since then. His heart clenched a little, imagining that Seiji felt unwelcome in this reunion.

“We should go get pie,” Eugene said loudly, and Nick turned back to them.

“I could _really_ use some pie right now,” Bobby agreed. “I’m tired and sore and in need of a morale boost.”

“Hurry and get showered, then,” Aiden said, waving them away with one hand. “You smell too bad to take out in public right now.”

Nick knew it wasn’t Seiji’s custom to clean up in the locker room. He didn’t like the lack of privacy. Nick knew he was waiting for them clear out of the way of the door so he could escape back to their room and stay there for the rest of the night, so while Bobby and Eugene made straight for the locker room, Nick made a detour to Seiji, still idling by the wall.

“Come on, we’re getting pie in like ten minutes, so we gotta be fast,” he grabbed Seiji’s arm and started tugging him towards the locker room even as he spoke.

“I don’t—,”

“If it’s about your weird privacy complex, you can change in a stall and wear a towel to the shower. If it’s about your diet, one slice of banana cream won’t kill you. And any other excuse you have is just as invalid,” Nick told him, hauling him into the echoing chamber. Water was already running, and Eugene had left a trail of clothing behind him on his way to the showers. Seiji was reluctant and his face creased into a deep frown, but finally, he sighed and shook Nick off.

“French silk,” he said quietly. “I don’t like banana cream.”

“You’ll come?” Nick beamed as Seiji gave a tiny nod.

Nobody commented on Seiji’s presence in the group as they made their way to the little diner with the best pies in town. Nick could feel Seiji’s nerves, though, as they approached Harvard and Aiden, like he expected them to call him out on last year’s shitstorm. And it was strange to realize that Seiji could get nervous, especially over something like this. He always acted like he didn’t care.

“You guys are going to have to squeeze in tight,” Aiden told them, pulling out his keys from his pocket and unlocking his car. “There’s technically only three seats in the back.”

“Bobby and I can double buckle it,” Nick said. “Right, Bobby? You’re so teeny tiny you can ride on my lap in the middle seat.”

“I might be small, but I am filled with rage and power!”

“If rage and power means sweetness and nice smelling shampoo, sure,” Nick teased. Bobby stuck his tongue out at Nick. But he laughed with the rest of them because it was true and they all knew it. Seiji didn’t laugh, and Nick saw the small frown he shot at Bobby. He wasn’t sure what exactly the deal was between them. They got on really well, actually. But sometimes Seiji would look at Bobby and he seemed a little angry. Nick fell back half a step to walk beside him. “No need to thank me,” he said to get Seiji’s attention away from whatever it was going through his head.

“Why would I thank you?”

“I made sure you’d get a window seat. This way, you won’t have to squish between two people,” Nick explained, smug as a bug. Were bugs smug? Or was it that they were snug? Whatever. _He_ was feeling pretty proud of himself for this bit of maneuvering so Seiji could be as comfortable as possible in this situation that was clearly miles outside his comfort zone.

“You suggested that for my sake?” Seiji asked, and he sounded different than usual. Surprised. And pleased. His eyes were opened a fraction wider than usual and his lips were parted in a little ‘ _O’_ to match.

“That’s what friends are for,” Nick said with a shrug, feeling sheepish now. It was like nobody had ever done something nice for Seiji before, the way he was looking at Nick for it.

“Best friends, actually,” Seiji corrected, his tone normal again. “Or so I’ve been told.”

If Nick thought he could’ve gotten away with it, he would have linked his arm through Seiji’s the way he did with Bobby. But that would be pushing his luck, so he just smiled wide and led the charge into the car.

“Aiden,” Eugene said after a particularly tight turn taken about ten miles per hour too fast, resulting in the entire back row ramming into Eugene and smashing him against the door. “I think that stereotype about gays being terrible drivers was started specifically because of you.”

“You’re fine!” Aiden cackled from the driver's seat.

“I think my ribs are bruised.”

“But are you dead?”

“I will be soon if you don’t learn how to fucking drive,” Eugene grumbled. And, for that, Aiden did a _brake check!_ after they bumped into the mostly empty parking lot of the diner, making them all jerk against their seatbelts and suffer for Eugene’s sass. You didn’t mess with Aiden.

It was fun having Aiden and Harvard back for a little. They reminisced about the fencing team last year. Seiji was pretty quiet, as he always was in social situations. Whether it was because he was genuinely disinterested in talking or because he thought he couldn’t, Nick wasn’t sure. But he did relax a couple of bites into his slice of french silk pie. And just like Nick had known they would, Harvard and Aiden seemed to be over Seiji’s ghosting act. Harvard coaxed him into speaking a handful of times, and while Aiden made some ambiguously insulting comments, they weren’t any more malicious or targeted towards Seiji than they were towards anyone else. And Nick was honestly—and a little guiltily—relieved that Tanner wasn’t here to start a fire. Because he liked the way they all felt like friends here, no tension or bad blood anywhere between them.


	9. Chapter 9

They’d made it an entire quarter without much of note happening. Seiji had honestly been surprised at how easily they'd fallen into their friendship, despite how abruptly and thoroughly he'd ended it the year before. Nicholas was extremely polite about the…events of _that night_. Seiji almost wished he'd bring it up, turn it into a joke. He'd rather the teasing than this walking on eggshells nonsense. He’d rather be ranted and raved at over it than feel like they were always skirting around a bomb he himself had wired. But he could hardly be the one to bring it up. So he didn't. And they both tiptoed around the fact that he'd practically forced himself on Nicholas. It colored their friendship differently, with blushes and quickly aborted touches. With wide eyes at any remembrance and quickly averted stares.

It wasn't a sustainable arrangement, and it was only a matter of time before it fell apart.

It happened on a night like any number of nights. Seiji was on his bed, studying in the quiet room. It was only this quiet when Nicholas was out. He was sipping his hot tea, which he had come to the habit of drinking before bed to help settle him into sleep since returning to the dorms. As it turned out, sleeping with Nicholas so nearby was terrible for his nerves as of late.

It was a good night. Quiet. Studying. Tea. And then, in burst Nicholas. He flung off his jacket and kicked off his shoes in a single, fluid motion that lasted only as long as it took the door to slam shut behind him. In the next moment, he was flying at Seiji. There was nothing Seiji could do but brace himself for the impact, for the jostling he'd endure as an effect of Nicholas’s body landing on his bed. It wouldn't have been so bad, but they'd both overlooked one thing.

“Ouch! Fuck!” Seiji wasn't nearly as inclined to swearing as Nicholas was, but the sudden and copious contact of searing hot liquid on skin was enough to startle the exploitive out of him.

“Shit—sorry,” Nicholas was quick to say, grabbing the half-emptied mug out of Seiji’s hand and setting it haphazardly on the floor. “Are you alright? Should we go to the infirmary?”

Seiji shook his head. He didn't think it would be necessary to get medical attention; already, the sting was starting to fade. Nicholas didn't seem convinced. Without any prompting at all, he sprang from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Seiji heard running water before he returned, wet towel in hand.

“I'm fine,” Seiji tried to reassure. “I was surprised more than anything.” But, again, Nicholas was unsatisfied with this response.

“You're hurt,” Nicholas insisted and without further ado, he reached over and tugged Seiji’s tea-stained shirt off of him. There wasn't even time to react before he was being attacked with the cold towel. Its contrasting chill against his burning skin felt good, but also made goosebumps explode from the place of contact. “You look a little red, but I don't think it's burned.”

“I told you,” Seiji gasped as Nicholas gently blotted the towel across all his reddened skin. “I'm fine.”

“I'm sorry, I should've been paying more attention,” Nicholas said, peering at Seiji through his eyelashes. Like he was expecting to get a scolding. Seiji sighed.

“It's alright. Just—try not to do it again.”

Nicholas nodded solemnly and turned dutifully back to his work. Any remnants of pain were already gone but Nicholas didn't stop until the towel was lukewarm from Seiji’s body heat. He cast it aside and examined the not-actually-burned skin once more. Seiji didn't put an end to it, though he should have. Should have pushed Nicholas off and away. But he couldn't.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and waited for the moment to pass. When, instead, a warm hand brushed softly against his chest, he shivered. He gasped. He involuntarily leaned into the touch.

And then he opened his eyes. There again was the wide-eyed look of panic on Nicholas's face. And the cherry blush across Seiji’s.

“I'm sorry,” Seiji said, pulling away with all the mortification the moment warranted. “I didn't mean to—,” what? Didn't mean to _what_? Act like he had on _that night_? Alluring and interested in Nicholas's touch? Of course, his interest at that time had been completely different from his interest now. But he pushed that aside.

“My fault,” Nicholas said, pulling his hand away from Seiji as if he were the one burned. “I shouldn't have, uh, touched you. My bad. Sorry.” He looked as flushed now as Seiji.

There was no avoiding this.

“I can’t be mad about that, _I’m_ the one who shouldn’t have touched you. I—in the past—I acted entirely inappropriately. It was terrible of me to try and take advantage of your feelings at that time. I’m sorry, Nicholas, I’m sorry for that entire night. I shouldn’t have touched you or made you touch me and I’m—sorry.”

“Don’t mention it, it’s fine now, so we don’t have to…”

“Don’t we?” Seiji felt like hiding under his blankets as a child might. Felt like running away. But that would only make this worse in the long run. “It was a rather glaring transgression on my part. Let me apologize for it. And at least lecture me about the terrible sportsmanship I displayed, or on what an awful friend I am. It’s _not_ fine.”

Nicholas stared at him, alarmed at first, then, finally, resigned.

“If we’re going to have this talk, can it at least wait until you’re dressed?” Nicholas asked. When Seiji made no move, Nicholas stood. “Here, let me get you a shirt—,”

“No.”

“What?”

“No. Sit back down and deal with it.” He’d made a decision, but the heat wouldn’t leave his cheeks. “ _This,”_ he gestured to himself vaguely, “is part of the problem. Is it so terrible to see me like this? We’re roommates, Nicholas. We share every space in which I have any reason to undress. It’s bound to happen.” Seiji couldn’t think of many times it actually had happened, but this was proof enough that it _could_ happen.

“Yeah, but, Seiji, that’s—,” Nicholas was distraught. Unsettled. Seiji forced himself to betray no disquiet, save for the blush. “Unfair,” Nicholas finished, though he sat back down on the bed, heavy. “You’re using your body to make a point— _again_ —and it’s not fair.”

“It’s my body, I can do as I please with it, including making any point I so desire.”

“That’s your right, I guess.” Nicholas laughed without humor. “Even if your point is that I was stupid and wrong to like you.”

“Yes, even then.”

“And that you won’t lose, not to me. That you’ll do anything to make me hurt as much as you.”

“I was cruel.”

“The worst. The _fucking_ worst, Seiji. That’s what you were.”

“I know.”

“How could you—? What kind of person can do that?”

“The terrible kind.”

“You have no idea how much that hurt.”

“I don’t.”

“I could have loved you,” Nicholas said, eyes finally finding his. And Seiji could see it there, the anger and hurt that Nicholas had been concealing for the sake of them getting along. He didn’t flinch at it. He had no right to. But those words…they made him ache bad enough to cry. He didn’t do _that_ either. Had no more right to cry over the loss than he did to flinch back from the anger. “You knew. You always knew.”

“Yes,” quiet but he wouldn’t deny it. “You never hid it.”

“And you _used_ that to hurt me. The only way I could ever have you was with malice and hate and revenge.”

“I’d have taken it further if you’d let me. I think I planned on telling you I hated you, or laughing at you for thinking I’d ever want you. I’d have told you it all once there was no turning back from what you’d done.” He didn’t say it to be cruel now. He said it to be honest. Nicholas deserved to know the extent of his mistake, deserved to see fully what sort of person Seiji was.

“I know,” Nicholas sounded tortured, having to say it. Seiji nodded.

“Of course you did. I wasn’t subtle, was I?”

Nicholas let out a strangled laugh, shook his head.

“No, you weren’t. And you thought I’d take it anyway, what you were offering.”

“I thought you wanted me.” Seiji watched his hands, folded neatly in his lap. “I overestimated how much.”

“I _did_ want you. God, I wanted you so much, even though I knew exactly what you were doing and why. Guess I really am stupid, huh?”

“I didn’t mean—,”

“No, it’s the truth. Part of me wanted to let you have your way, even if I got hurt for it.”

“I don’t mean to refute you,” Seiji said carefully, “and it’s a good thing that you said as much but—I _do_ seem to remember you saying that you didn’t want it.” _Didn’t want me._ Seiji felt Nicholas’s full attention on him. Then he felt the unexpected touch of Nicholas’s hand on his shoulder.


	10. Chapter 10

It was unfair, what Seiji was doing. He had no idea how hard it was for Nick not to try— _something_. How much he wanted to touch, to kiss, to _have_ Seiji, especially sitting there, looking like _that_. But it was easier for everyone if he didn’t want those things, so he gulped the want down, hid it deep, tried to portray the idea that his feelings weren’t at all what they’d been before nationals. All he allowed was a hand on the shoulder to draw Seiji’s face towards him.

Seiji twitched under his hand, took a long, deliberating moment before lifting his eyes from his clasped hands and finding Nick’s eyes instead. He was stiff and coiled, and Nick could tell it was costing him a great effort to allow Nick’s hand to stay on his bare skin. But he was the one who’d insisted on making this point. They had to move past it.

“You’re right, I didn’t want you. Not like that. It would have hurt me, but I think it would’ve been worse for you. I couldn’t—I liked you so much, but I’d rather be friends—or enemies, even—than do that to you. You would have regretted it. Worse than you regret it as is. It wouldn’t have been right for either of us. What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A far worse one than you are,” Seiji said softly. “I am continually surprised by your goodness.”

“Yeah, well, good as I am, I don’t think I can handle another episode like that one.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Fine, it’s not okay. But _we’re_ okay.”

“Thank you.” Seiji’s eyes flitted away again, and he laughed shakily, standing. “I’ll put on a shirt now, then. If—that is, are we done?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, standing also, but making no move to reinitiate the touch Seiji had just broken by standing. “I think that’s _that_ conversation out of the way.”

“Are you sure? You didn’t yell.”

“I didn’t need to,” Nick shrugged. “I played out this conversation a million times over the summer, you know. I don’t think I had one imaginary argument where you listened instead of fighting back. But you just sat down and took it.”

“I can, on occasion, admit to my faults,” Seiji offered a tired smile before sidestepping Nick to retrieve a shirt.

Nick couldn’t help but watch the way Seiji’s muscles shifted beneath skin as he pulled on the new shirt. He looked oddly sad, Nick thought. But he wasn’t sure why. Or what he could do to help. So he ducked behind the curtain and gave Seiji some privacy. If he’d meant to say something specific to Seiji when he’d first come in and pounced on his bed, Nick had forgotten all about it.

* * *

It actually felt good to have talked about it. Sure, the seduction was still a pretty off-limits topic. You didn’t just _get over_ something like that. But it felt like they had some breathing room now. And Seiji…well, Nick had always known he was an amazing guy, but the way he handled it all with such dignity? That was crazy. He hadn’t flinched away from it, and it made Nick think that he really did want to move past it. Like there was an effort to lift the taboo on that chapter of their relationship.

It put him in a good mood, and nobody missed it. Least of all Bobby.

“Things going good with Seiji?” He asked innocently over frozen yogurt. Nick tried to be cool. He shrugged, but he was sure the grin he wore was a little too close to ‘dopey’ to fool anyone.

“Yeah. I think we’re really friends. I mean, it’s been a while since we made up. But, like—yeah. I’m sure of it. We’re friends and he doesn’t secretly hate me for topping him. At _nationals,”_ Nick clarified at Bobby’s snicker.

“That’s good. Do you think he’ll be okay this year if you win again?”

“I—,” Nick’s mind flashed back to Seiji, shirt shoved down his body to expose inviting and dangerous expanses of skin, eyes dark and hateful and hollow. But then he remembered Seiji sitting stiffly on his bed a week ago, nervous and exposed and determined to remedy that night. “Yeah. I do.”

“And do you think there’s any hope?”

“Of what?” Nick asked, suspicious.

“You know what. You used to like him so much it was almost painful to watch,” Bobby teased, finishing off his fro-yo and standing up, taking Nick’s arm and forcing him to do the same.

“It was always hopeless and we all knew it,” Nick tried to say it with an easy smile. Bobby wasn’t buying it.

“That’s why it hurt to watch,” he sighed, trashing their cups and pushing open the door with a clatter of the bell. “But he seems more,” Bobby paused to find the right word, _“susceptible_ to those feelings lately.”

“False. It’s just that we’re actually friends now. We’re closer. We’ve been through…a lot.” If Seiji seemed any warmer towards Nick it was an unconscious reaction. Same as the way he’d leaned into Nick’s touch after the tea incident. They hadn’t actually banged, but they’d gotten close enough to leave a memory on their skin.

“Right.” But Bobby didn’t seem fully convinced. Nick thought they were ready to move on as they made their way back to campus, ambling along together without any more talking. But as they wound their way into the dorms and to their hallway, Bobby picked it up again. “You know, I can’t tell lately about you.”

“What about me?” Nick asked, and he wasn’t just playing stupid. He actually wasn’t sure what Bobby was asking.

“I can’t make out if you still like Seiji or not.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t sure if he would have answered beyond that, but he didn’t get the chance to find out. Because his door opened and Seiji emerged from it, laundry basket on his hip. Was it weird that Nick thought that was kind of sexy? It was definitely weird that he thought a basket of laundry held against a jutted out hip was sexy. But it was. It totally was.

“Don’t just stare,” Seiji huffed. “Honestly, Nicholas. Are you coming in? Grab the door if you are. My hands are full enough already.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry.” Nick grabbed the door, held it a little wider so that Seiji could slip past. His heart was pounding a bit too fast. Seiji hadn’t heard Bobby, right? Nick didn’t think so. But then he caught Seiji’s eyes, right before he turned down the hall. And he wasn’t so sure.

“Gosh,” Bobby said, traipsing easily into Nick’s room and collapsing on his bed. “Seiji can even make doing the laundry seem beautiful.”

“You’re deranged,” Nick said, rearranging Bobby’s legs so he could sit on the bed too. But hadn’t Nick thought the same thing? 

* * *

By the time Seiji returned, Bobby had left. They’d pretended to themselves that they’d get some work done, but, of course, they had done no such thing. And Nick was left to diligently half-ass an essay alone, a task he’d only been at for a quarter-hour when the door edged open and Seiji came in. There was a rustling of fabric and a creak of mattress springs. Nick didn’t let himself swivel around in the stupidly uncomfortable wooden chair just to look at Seiji. It would be too obvious. A year ago, he would have done it. But. Not anymore.

“Do you?” Seiji asked, and Nick was almost convinced that he was talking on the phone. This, though, was a good excuse to turn in his chair and look at Seiji. He was folding his fresh laundry, sitting neatly on his bed as he did so. Seiji didn’t look up from the shirt he was working on, but he was definitely talking to Nick.

“What?” Nick asked dumbly, watching Seiji’s hands hesitate on the white fabric for a fraction of a second too long. And he knew then. What Seiji was asking. It was another side effect of their talk. Of their efforts to lift the taboo. It had opened up the way for other topics to be discussed. Topics Nick wasn’t sure he was all that thrilled to talk about.


	11. Chapter 11

Seiji knew he had no right to ask. But he had anyway. Simple as that. Apparently, he had an appalling lack of self-control. He smoothed down the folds of his shirt, set it aside and took up another. Deep breath in. And out. He’d started this. He couldn’t be a coward about it. He looked up to meet Nicholas’s eyes.

“I overheard you with Bobby and I couldn’t help but wonder how you answered him. If you’ve moved on, or—I mean to say, _do_ you still like me?” His chest was squeezing too tight and he worried it might impair his breathing if it got much tighter. Nicholas looked at him with startled, slightly panicked eyes. Seiji shouldn’t have asked. Talk of Nicholas’s feelings was bound to bring up the ugliest parts of that night last year. But he needed to know. Yes, for his own peace of mind, he needed to know. Then he could—

“I don’t,” Nicholas said, and he laughed, awkward and self-conscious. “Not like that, anyway. Not anymore.” It was what Seiji had known all along. But it still hurt.

“I thought so,” he said, and was impressed with how dry and unconcerned it sounded. “Only a fool would persist in such emotions.”

“Guess even I’m not that foolish.” Nicholas still had his mouth pulled up in a half smile as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Seiji nodded, then dropped his eyes back to his folding. Each shirt and sweater and pair of slacks took far too long to fold. Finally, he put it all away and stored away the laundry basket. Everything was nice and orderly and where it should be and Nicholas didn’t like him and he never would and that was fine and, more than that, it was expected and now that he knew for sure, he could—

Seiji closed his eyes against the noisy thoughts cluttering his head. He sat heavy on his bed and leaned his back and his head against the wall. He let the emotions flood over him. Let the cold, crashing water of a moving river take him and leave goosebumps across his skin. He was in deep. He’d known how much trouble he was in, that day over the summer when this sensation had overtaken him for only the second time in his life. He liked Nicholas. But _like_ seemed too inadequate a word for this emotion. It didn’t capture the vastness of it.

No. Seiji would not back away from this. He was in love with Nicholas Cox. And it was very much a one-sided love. How could it not be? After what he’d done? He was lucky—beyond lucky—that Nicholas had forgiven him. To have Nicholas as a friend at all. And yet, a deep sadness filled him at that. _Friends_. They’d never be anything more than that. He’d made sure of that himself.

“Headache?” Nicholas asked in a gentle tone. Seiji cracked an eye open to see his roommate watching him with concern. Seiji wondered how long Nicholas had been watching him. Had he ever looked away? Could he tell? Were Seiji’s feelings as pitifully obvious to Nicholas now as Nicholas’s had been to Seiji all last year?

Seiji didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded, closed his eyes again. He couldn’t let Nicholas know. He’d already played with Nicholas’s emotions enough. He couldn’t upheave them again. He had no right to like Nicholas, not after being so awful to him. And he especially had no right to tell Nicholas as much. Didn’t deserve his kind rejection and the comfort he would no doubt offer.

The lights flipped off, diminishing the glow pressing through Seiji’s eyelids down to nothing but darkness. The door opened. Shut.

What was Nicholas doing? It was late for him to be going anywhere for long enough to justify turning off the lights. And, even if he _was_ stupidly going out, Seiji was still here. It was a little rude of Nicholas to turn the lights out on him. But Seiji didn’t actually mind. Wasn’t actually doing anything that required light. In fact, the cover of dark was a relief. The absence of Nicholas, too. He needed a moment to collect himself, so he sat quiet and unmoving in the dark room with no one there to witness the hurt he didn’t even deserve to feel after all the hurt he’d caused.

The door opened again, shut quietly. The lights remained off.

“Here,” a hushed whisper told him, and a water bottle was being pushed into his hands. He opened his eyes to see Nicholas’s face very vaguely in the dark.

“What are you—?”

“Give me your hand,” Nicholas said, and, startled, Seiji did. Two little capsules tumbled into his open palm. “For your headache,” Nicholas explained, standing straight. “Be sure to drink that whole thing. Hydration helps and all that.”

Seiji watched Nicholas tread lightly back to his computer at the desk. He dimmed the screen brightness so far down that Seiji wondered if he could see it at all. Then Seiji stared down at the pills in his hand. And he was struck by the urge to cry. He felt the tightness in his chest, the squeezing of his heart, the sting in his eyes. But he didn’t cry. He wasn’t allowed to cry. And he wasn’t allowed to love Nicholas, either.

But how was he supposed to _stop_ when Nicholas turned off the lights and brought him water and Excedrin for a headache that didn’t strictly exist? How was it fair for Nicholas to take such good care of him when Nicholas didn’t even like him?

Opening the water, Seiji took a long drink of it to try and focus his mind away from the ache behind his eyes. Perhaps that headache wasn’t entirely fictional. With another swig of water, Seiji downed the Excedrin, just to be safe. What was truly unfair, Seiji knew, was the way he was blaming Nicholas for not loving him anymore. Nicholas had a good heart, Seiji couldn’t resent him for being so nice and caring just because the reason for that niceness and that care was nothing more than Nicholas’s goodness.

“Are you okay?” Nicholas asked. Why did he keep looking back? “Does it hurt that bad?”

“Far more than I expected.” Not nearly as bad as Nicholas must have hurt last year. Unrequited feelings were nothing compared to having them thrown back in your face with a botched seduction in the name of a deluded revenge. It was a wonder Nicholas wasn’t still stinging from the lashings of Seiji’s actions and he understood that more and more as he fell deeper and deeper into a cold current that wouldn’t let him go. Seiji had never learned to swim under these conditions. His childhood crush on Dmytro had been puppy love, fading on its own soon enough with little effort or mind from Seiji. This was different. This was Nicholas.

“Tell me if there’s anything I can do.” The concern was as evident in Nicholas’s voice as the sincerity.

“You’ve already done more than enough,” Seiji said in an attempt to ease Nicholas’s worry. “I’ll be all right. This will pass.”

But Seiji wasn’t sure if he believed that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cliffhanger this time, you're welcome <3


	12. Chapter 12

It sucked lying to Seiji. But it was a necessary evil, as they said. Wait, who said that? Nick wasn’t sure, but it didn’t really matter. Lying was bad. But this lying wasn’t, really. He’d just gotten Seiji back and he didn’t really feel like letting him go again so soon. Feelings would just complicate that. He’d decided that early on. There wasn’t really any chance of them romantically, not after that night. It just—wouldn’t happen. Like Seiji had said, only a fool would think there was any chance. Only a fool would hold onto doomed feelings for _months_ after getting brutally rejected.

Besides, wouldn’t it be kind of creepy? It was bound to make Seiji uncomfortable if he knew. Like, _hey, I know that stint you pulled was fucked up but I still think about how sexy you looked practically every day._ It felt like a violation, liking Seiji—wanting him—after seeing him like that. So lying was the best thing to do here. And Nick knew that. But he hated it. He wasn’t used to hiding his feelings for Seiji.

But it turned out that he wasn’t too bad at it. Days turned to weeks turned to months and then, even closing in on winter break, no one had suspected. No one teased him for making eyes at Seiji. No one asked how it was going between them. They were taken by the fencing team and everyone else for exactly what they were—friends. Close friends. Best friends. But not boyfriends. Never boyfriends.

“Yo, Nick, you’re single, right?” Eugene’s abrupt question made Nick practically choke on his oatmeal.

“What?”

“No secret boyfriend?”

“Uh. No?”

“Great.”

“First, you didn’t ask about secret girlfriends. And second, why? And third, whatever it is you want from me, I probably don’t want to give it.”

“Where would you get a girlfriend around here, Nick?” Eugene asked with a smirk. “And come on, I just need you to double with me.”

“Question: are you my date or are we meeting our dates together?”

“I dunno. Depends. Which would you prefer?” Punctuated with a wink, as per Eugene’s usual style.

“Man, as tempting as that is, I’ll pass.”

“You should go.”

Nick turned to Bobby in horror.

“You can’t take his side,” Nick told him.

“It’s been forever since you liked anyone. It’s boring.”

“Gotta get back on that horse,” Eugene agreed sagely.

“You’re full of shit. I don’t need you two trying to set me up with anybody.”

“We all know you were cut up over Seiji, but most boys aren’t Seiji and they’ll handle your heart more gently.”

“Eugene! Don’t bad mouth Seiji,” Bobby scolded, and he looked ready to start a fight.

“It’s true, though,” Eugene shrugged. “You saw how it all went down. Maybe you should take a leaf out of Bobby’s book and go for someone outside of fencing. That way there’s no competition. And the guy I’ve got lined up is a swimmer, so—,”

“You guys realize the past object of my affections is literally right here, don’t you?” Nick broke in. “And you’re kind of putting me in an awkward spot by just—blabbing about it right in front of him?” Neither boy looked particularly abashed or remorseful, but they did settle down some.

“What?” Seiji said, seeming to tune in for the first time as he looked up from a book he had spread open on the table. “Nicholas, you liked me?” He asked, turning to Nick with widened eyes. “You never said—I had no idea.”

“Oh _shit!”_ Eugene said at top volume, panicking. He turned to Nick, but before he could set in on apologizing, Bobby cut in.

“You didn’t _tell_ him? Nick, how do you expect to get anywhere if you won’t even make the first move?”

“Dude, I thought for sure Seiji knew—I’m so fucking sorry—,”

Nick couldn’t keep it in. He burst into laughter, doubling over the table and almost landing in his breakfast.

“‘Gene, man, the look on your face!” Nick gasped, recovering from his fit. Eugene narrowed his eyes, looked between Nick and Seiji. Seiji had tuned out of their conversation again, and if Nick didn’t know he’d been pulling Eugene’s leg just then, he might not have been able to tell if Seiji had been joking or not. Eugene obviously couldn’t tell.

“Fuck you both,” he said, pointing between Nick and Seiji. “But my point remains. And I’m ordering you, as your captain, to go on this double date with me. You need to let your broken heart heal.”

“You can’t abuse your title like that. I don’t have to listen.”

“I’ll write you up.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Harvard would never do this to me.”

“Harvard’s not here.”

* * *

“I haven’t been on a date in over a year,” Nick complained, digging through his clothes for something to wear. He didn’t really need to impress this guy Eugene had for him, but he figured he should put in some effort. No reason to show him a terrible time, right?

“That long?” Seiji asked, and it was unclear if he was actually engaged in this conversation or if he was just humoring Nick with going through the motions. Even the latter was more than Nick had ever gotten last year so he decided not to care if Seiji’s interest was genuine. He was making the effort and that’s what counted.

“Not since coming to Kings Row. You were the first guy I liked here and that lasted—well. It took up most the year.”

“But over the summer, surely you had a fling?”

“Not really.” Truth was, he’d tried to have a fling. Not a date, but something closer to a friends with benefits deal. But he couldn’t. Nick had gotten her out of her dress and she was working on his pants and all he could see was Seiji. He’d called it off and apologized nonstop for a week. She’d been cool about it, but still. He’d learned his lesson. It was Seiji or no one. At least for now. “And why do you think I _surely_ had a fling, anyway?” Nick asked, pulling on a t-shirt as he turned to Seiji.

Apparently, Seiji was actually invested in this conversation since he was watching Nick, head resting against the wall to match his hip, which was doing the same. He looked so—ugh. Nick wanted to crawl onto that bed with him. Wanted to push him down and shove up his shirt and kiss a mark on his chest and— _stop it._ It was getting worse than it had been in ages. His desire for Seiji. It was a double-edged blade, his close friendship with his crush. The more casually open Seiji was with him, the nicer he was, the more Nick got it in his head that something could happen. But it couldn’t. He knew it couldn’t. And it wasn’t cool of him to keep imagining things like that.

“Don’t most people have flings?” Seiji asked, curious.

“I don’t think so. No.”

“You all talk like it’s normal.”

“That’s just teenage boy stuff, I think. And the media’s influence, if you want to get deep about it. But most people aren’t out getting it all the time, you know?”

“Is that so?” He seemed both interested by this tidbit and unimpressed, almost bored. Talking with Seiji was just like that.

“Yeah. In my experience, anyway. And I don’t really talk like that, do I?” Nick asked, a little worried he’d somehow come off as a sex-obsessed douchebag.

“I suppose not. I’m sorry if I offended you by assuming.” Seiji frowned. Nick was just about to tell him that he hadn’t and not to worry about it. “It just seems natural that you would have. You’re not unpleasant, by any means. I thought you were bound to catch someone’s attention.”

“I—uh, thanks,” Nick fumbled, cheeks hot. There Seiji went again, saying things Nick wanted to twist to mean something else. Something more.

“You’re welcome,” Seiji said and it made Nick laugh. It was like he didn’t understand that he’d said something weirdly complimentary. It was so matter-of-fact and so Seiji. Nick sat on the foot of Seiji’s bed, turned to face him.

“What about you, then?” Nick asked. And he kind of didn’t want to know. But he also did want to know, and the wanting outweighed the not wanting. “You’re beautiful and talented and half the people that meet you fall in love with you. So where are your flings?”

“I don’t do flings,” Seiji said with disdain. “I’m not interested in something so brief and more concerned with sensations than emotions.” That made sense from Seiji. Nick smiled, intent on teasing Seiji for being a prude but, before he could, Seiji’s face suddenly colored, and his eyes darted away from Nick’s. “Of course, I’ve just painted myself a hypocrite, haven’t I?”

“That doesn’t count,” Nick said firmly. Seiji’s eyes flicked to his again.

“It does. But I’d have you know that it was a behavior that has never before and will never again manifest.”

“I know.”

“It’s getting late, why don’t you finish getting ready for your date?”

“Do you think I should go?” Nick asked. Seiji was clearly taken aback by the question.

“Why ask me?”

“I don’t know. It’s just that I’d rather stay here.” _With you._

“You might have a good time,” Seiji said, pulling away from the wall and sitting up straight, rolling his shoulders. “You should go.”

It shouldn’t sting. He shouldn’t be disappointed. But it did. And he was.


	13. Chapter 13

Seiji waited up. He wouldn’t even pretend to Nicholas that he hadn’t. He wanted to ask about his date. That was a typical enough thing for a friend to do, right? Seiji hoped the date had been awful. He’d never claimed to be a _good_ friend. He wasn’t nice. Or selfless. He wanted Nicholas all to himself, even if he could only have him as a friend. A boyfriend would just distract Nicholas from him, steal his attention. And Seiji already had Bobby and Eugene and all Nicholas’s other friends to contend with.

But Seiji didn’t think Nicholas called his other friends _beautiful._ Seiji sighed at himself. He was horribly predictable, his thoughts having latched onto Nicholas’s casual compliment so much that he’d pulled it out three dozen times already since Nicholas had left for his date. There was no stomping it down, so Seiji gave in and let his mind pull out the memory again for fresh examination.

 _You’re beautiful and talented and half the people that meet you fall in love with you._ It wasn’t anything special. Nicholas hadn’t said it like it meant anything. But Nicholas _had_ said it. It still wasn’t anything special. It was an acknowledgment of things they both already knew. _Talented._ Seiji certainly was talented and it was pointless to fake any modesty over that. It was his talent, of course, that had first made Nicholas notice him in any sort of way. _Half the people that meet you fall in love with you._ Nicholas had been one of those poor fools to fall for him, it wasn’t a strange thing for him to say now, something like an inside joke, an allusion to the fact that Nicholas would know better than anyone and that was what made it funny instead of serious. And, because they both knew that Nicholas had liked him, it was also unsurprising that Nicholas found him attractive too. It didn’t mean anything. But…

_You’re beautiful…_

But Nicholas still thought that. Even after seeing the ugliest part of Seiji, Nicholas was still able to say that without any hesitation or thought. And Seiji couldn’t stop thinking about it, special or not.

Seiji liked, also, that Nicholas hadn’t had any relations over the summer. He liked to think he had something to do with it. Not in a scarring way, though it was more likely Nicholas had been turned off relationships in general after Seiji’s repulsive pass at him than Nicholas being too hung up on him to be with anyone else. But if Nicholas still thought he was beautiful, maybe, just maybe, it had taken Nicholas some effort to get over him after all. And maybe if Nicholas had liked him so much, had found him so hard to get over…

“He’s not _that_ stupid,” Seiji said aloud. Not even Nicholas, supreme fool that he was, would fall into the same trap twice.

“Who’s not that stupid?”

“You used to be louder about opening the door,” Seiji accused, embarrassingly having brought a hand to his chest in surprise.

“Did I scare you?” Nicholas asked with a warm laugh. He seemed to be in a good mood. Seiji narrowed his eyes. That couldn’t be good for Seiji’s cause. “Sorry, sorry, I’ll try to be louder again, no need to glare. You used to yell at me for being so noisy, though.”

“I constantly find new ways to be annoyed by you.”

Nicholas didn’t even pretend to take it seriously.

“I didn’t get you when we first met, but you’re funny. In a mean and dry way, but I like it. Eugene still isn’t sure if he revealed my crush to you.”

“Honestly, does he think I’m blind? Of course I knew.”

“That’s the thing. You’re so oblivious about some things, there’s no telling if you’d get it or not. That I like you. Well, _liked_ you, I guess is more accurate these days.”

Seiji glared at Nicholas in earnest for that. The carelessness of tenses had made his heart pump with pure hope for a second there, even though his brain had no such disillusions.

“I’m not oblivious,” he snapped, and Nicholas smirked.

“You totally are. If I’d toned down the crush even just a little, you wouldn’t have noticed.”

“What makes you think that?”

“When I first started liking you, you thought I wanted to fight.”

“You were always looking at me.”

“Yeah. Oblivious, see?”

“How was your date?” Seiji asked, done with Nicholas’s teasing.

“It was okay. Turns out Eugene’s guy—Cooper—wasn’t what he’d hoped for. Me and Tom mostly had a good time making fun of them and their obvious lack of chemistry.” Nicholas smiled absently, and Seiji knew he was remembering something from the night.

“Do you plan to see him again?”

“Yeah.”

It had been bound to happen, sooner or later. Nicholas being stolen away by someone else. It was a good thing, really. Maybe it would quicken the process of getting over him.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Nicholas said, digging around in his jacket. He hadn’t taken it off yet, and the snow he’d brought in with him had melted into puddles on the floor. Seiji was irritated with it, but he also thought Nicholas looked rather good in his combat boots and stupid ripped jeans and faded leather jacket. He didn’t mind getting another moment to admire Nicholas like this, even if it meant puddling up the floor. He’d use Nicholas’s towel to clean it up later.

Triumphant, Nicholas pulled out what looked to be a tangle of black cord.

“Am I meant to recognize what that is?” Seiji asked, eyebrow raised.

“Give me your hand,” Nicholas said, stomping in his wet boots across Seiji’s clean floor. He really couldn’t allow such behavior, and opened his mouth to tell Nicholas as much. But then Nicholas grabbed his hand and Seiji forgot what he’d been about to say. “Hold it there, okay?” Nicholas asked, and Seiji did, even as Nicholas’s hand fell away.

“What are you doing?” But it became clear soon enough. Seiji watched as Nicholas untangled the black cord and fastened it neatly around his wrist. Then he flipped Seiji’s hand over and beamed at the result.

“There. I know you’re not a jewelry person, but I thought it’d look good on you.”

Seiji looked at the wrapped bracelet with a silver-cast nautical knot in the middle, then at Nicholas’s cheerful face.

“You—,” he didn’t know how to articulate the swell of emotion he felt. He was inclined to tell Nicholas he didn’t have to; that he shouldn’t have. But he suspected Nicholas already knew that. “Thank you. I—really like it.”

“Yeah? Then, Merry Christmas.”

Seiji was about to say that he hadn’t gotten anything for Nicholas, but he was sure Nicholas knew that too. “Merry Christmas, Nicholas.”

* * *

Winter holiday was long. Seiji wanted to return to school more than he ever had before. He knew he should be taking this time away from Nicholas to collect himself. To try and move on.

Seiji had done no such thing, hovering over his phone like the lovesick fool he was, hoping Nicholas would text him another irrelevant comment about something even more irrelevant, or else post a new nonsense meme to the team group chat.

A week into break and this new routine of Seiji’s, his phone buzzed in a call. He expected it to be his father, wishing him a quick and late happy Christmas. But when Seiji checked the caller ID, all he could do for a frozen moment was stare. _Nicholas Cox_. Nicholas didn’t do phone calls, he was of the mind that anything that could be texted _should_ be texted. And, even if Nicholas did believe in phone calls, he wouldn’t call _Seiji_.

But he had.

“Hello?” Seiji asked as he accepted the call. He expected it to either be some sort of emergency or a butt dial, but Nicholas’s laugh proved him wrong on both counts.

“Seiji! How’s the holiday treating you?”

“Well enough.” Seiji wasn’t about to admit he missed Kings Row already or felt lonely in the quiet of his own house. “Life’s slightly boring without you to pester me constantly but I’m coping rather well with this reprieve from headaches.” Seiji was disappointed but not surprised to hear himself admitting, in so many words, to what he’d just been adamant about keeping to himself.

“I miss you too,” Nicholas said in a way that could have been sincere or could have just as easily been sarcasm. “I’m at that fencing thing at my old club I was telling you about and I’m on break and this kid just said the funniest thing to me, I had to tell you—,”

“Nicholas, slow down,” Seiji interjected. “I’m lost. What fencing thing? Why are kids saying anything to you?”

“Because I’m cool. Wait, did I really not tell you about this?”

“Evidently not.”

“Oh.” Nicholas paused, likely to search for memories that weren’t there. “Well, I don’t know how I forgot to mention it to you because I’ve been excited about this event since Coach Joe asked me to come help out with it in, like, October.”

“Now that we’ve established you never told me about this event, do you want to tell me now so I know what you’re talking about?”

“Right! It’s not a big deal, really, it’s just that Coach Joe—my first coach, before Kings Row and Williams—is hosting this god awful children’s event thing and he asked me to come help with it!”

“So,” Seiji said slowly, “he conned you into working and you’re _happy_ about it?”

“When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound exciting,” Nicholas pouted. “But you don’t get it. I had to beg Joe to take me on at all a couple years back—he was hesitant to even let me clean up this place and now he’s asking me to come help _teach_ these kids for a day. I dunno, maybe it’s nothing but it just feels like he’s proud of me. Or something.”

“Nicholas, nobody that knows you _isn’t_ proud of you.”

Seiji forgot sometimes that Nicholas came from nothing and had skyrocketed to the top before he had any time to adjust to being more than _Zero_ in other people’s eyes. It was little things like this that made Seiji remember, made him realize that Nicholas, at his roots, was incredibly humble and modest. It made Seiji hate himself even more for trying to reinforce the idea that Nicholas was nothing special in both their minds after his deserved win at nationals.

“Nobody?” Nicholas asked with an awkward laugh, trying for teasing, Seiji thought.

“Yes, that’s what I said.”

A garbled voice on Nicholas’s end of the call distracted Nicholas from answering.

“Coach Joe?” Seiji guessed after Nicholas told the other voice he’d be back in just a minute.

“No, actually. I was talking about this on that double Eugene forced me on and Tom likes kids, he asked if he could come. And now he’s asking if I’ll get my ass back in gear because he knows dick all about fencing and the kiddies are getting restless.”

Tom. Nicholas _had_ said he’d be seeing him again, it shouldn’t have felt like such a blow to discover Nicholas was with him, but this was obviously weirdly important to Nicholas. And he’d let Tom into it. If Nicholas hadn’t forgotten to tell Seiji about this event, was it possible Seiji would be there now instead of Tom? Seiji didn’t have an affinity for children and he doubted he’d have been bold enough to invite himself along. But Nicholas was notorious for inviting Seiji along places, even if he didn’t have any interest in going.

“What was it that was so funny you had to call to tell me?” Seiji asked before Nicholas could say he’d better get back to work.

“Oh, right! This kid—,” Nicholas started laughing so hard it disrupted his speaking, “—this kid, she came up to me, right? And she—she—she asks if I’m a _skin doctor.”_ Nicholas was wheezing now but Seiji was only left more confused.

“Why did she ask you that?”

“That’s why it’s so funny! I don’t know—what the hell even is a skin doctor? Like a dermatologist? Was she asking me if I’m a dermatologist? How does she know what that is, she’s like five.” When Seiji still didn’t get the joke, Nicholas’s laughter naturally ebbed off. “I guess it’s one of those things that’s only funny if you’re there for it, but Tom and I were cracking up.”

Seiji was glad Nicholas wasn’t there to see the expression he made at this renewed mention of Tom. If Nicholas was having such a grand time with Tom, why had he bothered calling Seiji at all, Seiji wondered in irritation. But then he caught the glint of silver on his wrist and his irritation settled down.

“I’m sorry I don’t get the joke,” Seiji said, “but thank you for telling it to me anyway. And have fun with your free labor.”

Nicholas laughed again and signed off with cheer. The house seemed even quieter now that Seiji was back to sitting alone in the large living room.

He found his eyes drifting again to the bracelet coiled around his wrist, the way they had since Nicholas had first fastened it there. Nicholas was right, Seiji wasn’t a jewelry person. But this bracelet? He never planned to take it off. Nicholas had been on a date—a _date_ —but had gotten a trinket for _him_. It was almost enough to convince him that there were some residual feelings there. If Nicholas wasn’t seeing Tom, then Seiji might have tried…

Seiji bit his lip, shook his head, refusing to even let himself finish forming that thought fully.

Nicholas deserved better than someone who had tried to seduce him to hurt him. But the tiny weight around Seiji’s wrist made it seem like Nicholas might want _him_ instead _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and there I go again about leather jackets smh


	14. Chapter 14

Nick was jittery as all hell. Nationals. It was almost time and he couldn’t stop worrying. What if last year had been a fluke? What if he’d faked his way through? What if he lost in his first match again? That would be embarrassing enough to warrant moving out of the country for. And…

“Stop it,” Seiji snapped, and Nick guiltily looked away.

“Sorry.”

“It’s impossible to concentrate when you keep staring at me like that, and I actually need to focus, if you don’t mind.”

“I said sorry,” Nick mumbled. Seiji struck fiercely at the target dummy and Nick tried to turn on his own focus. He needed it. Needed the extra practice. Needed to prove that he was more than a one time fluke. But it was hard to focus on anything but Seiji. Even fencing. He pulled on his mask, raised his épée, stared down his imaginary opponent. It was no use.

“Seiji?”

“What?” Seiji growled, exasperated and tightly wound. He ripped off his mask and spun on Nick.

“I wondered if—do you want to fence?”

“Nicholas, I don’t know where your brain’s been for the last forty minutes but I’ve been trying _very hard_ to fence.”

“I meant with me.”

Seiji considered, looking Nick up and down with his lower lip caught adorably between his teeth in concentration.

“I promise my brain’s back,” Nick offered, but Seiji didn’t laugh. He rarely laughed. It was a shame since he had such a nice one. “I could use the practice. Please?”

“Fine. Alright.”

Fencing Seiji was probably Nick’s favorite thing. Finding his footing and meeting Seiji’s eyes through the obstruction of their masks—it made Nick’s pulse kick up a notch with anticipation. Finally, his mind had kicked into gear. Finally, he was ready to fence.

Once they’d started, it was hard to stop. Matches turned into a single, long-stretching duel, which Nick had long ago stopped keeping track of points in. Seiji would know the score at the end of it, but it wouldn’t matter.

Seiji struck hard, landing in the exact same spot he’d hit a while back. Nick would have to guard it better. _Or…_ he grinned, carefully leaving his shoulder exposed and unguarded, begging for a third attack. Watching as he went about his own attacks for the time when Seiji went again for his shoulder. _There!_ He took Seiji’s blade, leveraged it harmlessly out of reach of his body, jabbed a quick hit against his chest and retreated before Seiji could recover.

Seiji didn’t take kindly to that trick, and Nick paid for his wrath with a particularly painful strike in his belly.

“Good one,” Nick gasped, his reaction a little slower, a little more sluggish than usual, the fatigue and the faint nausea from that hit stealing his speed from him.

“Need a break?” Seiji asked, mouth tipped up in a smug grin.

“Not a chance.” Nick pushed through the muggy exhaustion and redoubled his efforts.

When at last their blades fell silent, Nick was breathing heavily and felt gratified in the rising and falling of Seiji’s own chest.

“Who won?” Nick asked, scooping up his water bottle and taking a long drink.

“I lost track,” Seiji said after putting down his own water bottle. Nick looked him over. Couldn’t decide if he was lying because he’d lost or if he had genuinely stopped keeping score. “But it was fun, wasn’t it?” Seiji asked, smile playing on his lips as he held out a hand for a shake. Nick took it gladly.

“It was. You’re fantastic. I always look forward to fencing against you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

The room felt unnaturally warm, and Nick’s face stung with heat. Seiji was a sweaty mess—fuck, did Nick love seeing him looking like that—and Nick knew he was just as blotchy and sweaty as Seiji was. So it could have been his imagination. But he thought that they both might have been a little _more_ red as they put the gym back in order and peeled off their gear.

* * *

“You leave tomorrow for your first match, right?” Bobby asked at lunch. Nick nodded. “When is it? I might be able to come by and watch.”

“Tomorrow afternoon. At two,” Nick said, and felt the jitters try to take him again. They’d taken a rest after he’d fenced with Seiji last week. But now they were sneaking up full force.

“You’ll be great,” Bobby reassured him.

“Do you think you can come?” Nick wasn’t about to lie to himself. Having a friend there to root for him would absolutely make him feel better.

“Yeah,” Bobby smiled, likely reading the desperation in Nick’s eyes. “I’ll be there.”

“When do you head off, Seiji?” Eugene asked.

“Tonight. Dmytro and I—,”

“Coach Eyebrow?” Eugene cut in. Seiji only nodded tiredly. “You’re lucky to have such a fine personal coach, man.”

“So you’ve said. Very loudly. And in close proximity to him,” Seiji said with a disapproving frown. Eugene shrugged, no shame.

“What, like you never thought he was hot? I’m not buying it,” Eugene pointed at Seiji like it was an accusation.

“He’s my mentor and far too old for me.”

“Doesn’t change how hot he is.”

“It’s inappropriate to even contemplate.”

“Maybe it makes him even hotter.”

“Interesting theory.”

“Admit it. You think he’s handsome.” Eugene’s grin was wide enough to take over his whole face. Seiji looked resigned and like he was terribly inconvenienced. Nick watched the exchange with amusement, and Bobby was right there with him, a little more wide-eyed and hungry for the gossip than Nick was, but watching all the same.

“And if I do?” Seiji fired back, looking Eugene dead in the eye. Bobby gasped. Nick was caught off guard because he hadn’t thought about it before, but _that_ was Seiji’s type?

“I knew it!” Eugene crooned. “Have fun spending the night with Coach Sexy.”

“Eugene, don’t be gross,” Nick groaned. Because that wasn’t an image he wanted in his head. “The guy’s old as balls.”

“You’re just jealous,” Eugene waved a hand at Nick to shoo away his objections.

“I thought we established that I was over Seiji?”

“Sure we did. But Tom says that if you’re not talking about fencing, you’re talking about Seiji.” _Shit._ Nick felt Seiji’s body go rigid next to him at the table and glared daggers at Eugene. The bell rang loud, uncaring about silly teen dramas, before Nick could offer any sort of retort. “Peace out, suckers,” Eugene sang, “and good luck, both of you!” And he was gone. Bobby wasn’t far behind.

Nick grabbed up his bag and waited for Seiji to do the same. They had their next class together. As they navigated through the hallways, Nick cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh, about what Eugene was saying, it’s nothing. Just—,”

“It’s not my business what you talk about on your dates,” Seiji said briskly, but Nick saw his eyes dart to the bracelet he still wore on his wrist. “Eugene’s either, honestly. He’s too intrusive and persistent for his own good. It’ll get him into trouble eventually.”

“Yeah, probably,” but Nick’s mind had snagged on something else. “They’re not dates.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tom and I—we only went on one date,” Nick said. It was stupid that it was so important to him that Seiji know this, but it was. Seiji froze, forcing the thinning foot traffic to stream around them as Nick joined him.

“You said you were seeing him again.”

“Yeah and I did. But not as a date or anything. We’re not together. Did you seriously think we were? If that was true, I’d be a pretty shit boyfriend.”

“It wasn’t my place to judge.”

“I bet you were judging anyway. I literally ignore his calls all the time to keep talking with you instead.” Seiji shrugged. “I’m a better boyfriend than that.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like him.” And he wanted so badly to tell Seiji who he really liked, but the warning bell rang and Seiji started walking again, eyes flicking back to Nick’s once. And he thought…damn, but he thought they betrayed a little bit of hope in them.

But that was insane.

* * *

After school, Seiji and Nick walked back to their room in silence. The reality of the competition between them was unable to be ignored now, with their first matches lined up tomorrow. Nick watched Seiji disappear into the shower with a sort of dread in his stomach.

They’d be okay.

He’d been ignoring this fear. Pushing it out of his mind again and again for a while now. It felt like a betrayal to question Seiji in this. To think that he’d do— _that_ again. He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. But he might do something else. Nick wasn’t confident he’d win again this year anyway, but if he _did…_ Seiji wouldn’t be happy about it. All Nick could do was hope he’d handle it better this time if the loss landed on him.

Nick sighed, glanced at the bathroom door. The water was still running. This was a long shower, even by his standards. Revenge, maybe, for Nick always using all the hot water.

Revenge.

 _He won’t be that bad, he wouldn’t do that to me again. He promised._ But worry still clouded in Nick’s mind. _That_ _bad_ was relative, after all. There was still just plain _bad_.

But he was pretty sure he was more important to Seiji now than he had been last year. He thought that, maybe, he was more important to Seiji than winning.

“This is stupid,” Nick muttered to himself. He didn’t want to doubt Seiji. So he decided not to. He decided to trust Seiji.


	15. Chapter 15

Seiji had no right to love Nicholas. No right to tell him. No right to do this. But he wasn’t a very nice person. He wasn’t kind or considerate or thoughtful. And he wanted it so badly it hurt. Seiji needed to make that hurt stop. Had to do something about it before nationals. He’d never be able to concentrate otherwise. And who knew how rankings would fall and how they’d react to the outcome? No. He wouldn’t chance it. It had to be now. After all, Seiji wasn’t nice. And Nicholas—wonderful, kind Nicholas—was a fool.

Stepping from the steam of the bathroom, Seiji considered changing his mind. It wasn’t too late. Not yet. He could easily abandon this course. It was a lot of things—reckless, undignified, desperate, ill-conceived, embarrassing, selfish, selfish, _selfish_ —and none of them were things he generally associated with himself. He teetered on the edge of this decision and of the division in their room, just by the curtain he wished Nicholas hadn’t put up.

“Oh good, you’re out,” Nicholas said when he noticed Seiji. “I was about to come in there after you. Thought maybe you’d slipped in the shower like an old man and couldn’t get up.”

“Is that the best you can do?” Seiji asked, dismissing the attempted jab at his abnormally long shower. “I would have expected better from you. An innuendo, at the least.”

Nicholas laughed.

“Okay, okay, let me try again.” Nicholas reset his face, cleared his throat. _He’s ridiculous._ “Have fun in there?” He asked, punctuated with exaggeratedly raised eyebrows.

“Maybe I edit conversations with you in my mind to make you seem wittier because that was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.”

“Ah, so you think about me a lot, do you?” Nicholas grinned at him, triumphant. Looking at that smile made Seiji feel the way he did when his eye caught on the cord around his wrist. He glanced down to it now, then back to Nicholas, still smiling at him with easy, casual affection. And—yes, he was going to do this. Terrible idea that it was, he was committing to it.

“I’m leaving at ten,” Seiji said, and Nicholas’s brow creased at the topic hop. He glanced down at his phone. It was almost nine now, Seiji knew.

“Okay…?” Nicholas said, watching Seiji carefully. He knew there was a reason Seiji had brought it up, but he couldn’t figure out what that reason was. Seiji stepped carefully into Nicholas’s side of their room, his movement creating a flutter in the curtain.

“There’s something I’d like before I go and I’m wondering if you’ll indulge me.”

“Uh, alright? Sure. What do you need?” Nicholas watched him still, clearly confused. But he’d agreed, even without asking what Seiji wanted. Like a fool, he’d agreed to give Seiji what he wanted without knowing what it was. Seiji took another step towards Nicholas, and another. There wasn’t room for another, there was only the bed. And Nicholas.

Seiji would stop. If Nicholas asked him to. He’d stop, of course he would. But he had to try.

Seiji crawled onto the bed and only had time to see the widening of Nicholas’s eyes before he was too close to see anything. Slowly, he took Nicholas’s face in his hands. Even slower, he leaned in. It was clear by now what he was going to do. But Nicholas didn’t stop him. Not yet. So Seiji closed the distance and kissed Nicholas, gentle and soft. It was nothing like the kisses of almost a year ago, and he hoped Nicholas could tell. He kissed slow and deliberate and careful. Still calculating, but that was just who he was. He hoped it wouldn’t dissuade Nicholas from recognizing the genuine feelings behind the calculations, the feelings he tried to put into these kisses.

Sighing, he let his body relax against Nicholas, and sought to deepen the kiss. Slow and sweet instead of insistent and forceful. Seiji invited Nicholas into his mouth, gave him the choice to ignore it. But he didn’t. Nicholas had, since the start, responded. Just as he had last year. But it was different. It wasn’t like last year, and he could tell Nicholas knew it. There was nothing cruel or demanding or hateful here between them tonight. Lightly, Nicholas’s hands landed at Seiji’s hips, a barely-there weight. Encouraged by the contact, Seiji leaned in a little more. And maybe he leaned too much because Nicholas’s head knocked against the wall. But he didn’t seem to mind.

Seiji could have lost himself for hours in this—the sensations of light and attentive touches and kisses. It was entirely new to him. He liked it. _A lot._ But they were on a schedule. He’d planned it that way. So he pulled away from Nicholas’s mouth and rocked back, putting a slight distance between their bodies. Nicholas’s hands still rested on his hips, and the contact, again, gave Seiji courage.

“That was—,” Nicholas started, but he cut off. There was no question why. Seiji’s hands had found the hem of his plain white t-shirt, had taken a firm grip. And, as Nicholas watched, he carefully drew the shirt over his head, offering Nicholas with a view of exposed skin he usually took care to keep out of sight of greedy eyes, inviting him to look, to touch. Seiji dropped his shirt on the floor, and it took a good deal of effort to allow the mess. Nicholas stared disbelievingly at him. “Seiji, what are you—?” His voice sounded off, constricted and dry. Like it took effort.

“I want this,” Seiji told him simply, never breaking eye contact, though his entire body felt on fire with a heavy flush. He wondered if Nicholas would stop him now. Push him away and tell him that he didn’t feel that way. Not anymore. That he didn’t want this. Didn’t want him.

The grip on Seiji’s hips changed, hardened. And then Seiji was being pulled into Nicholas’s lap, and a moment after, an arm wrapped around his back and pressed him up against Nicholas. And then Nicholas was kissing him. And it wasn’t like last year. But it wasn’t like earlier, either. There was a need here, a desire for more. Nicholas kissed him with expert skill and he wasn’t cautious anymore. Seiji couldn’t keep up. He shut his eyes tight and held to Nicholas even tighter.

Just when Seiji thought he might pass out from forgetting how to breathe, Nicholas’s mouth fell from his, but his hold on Seiji didn’t loosen, so he wasn’t worried. It looked very much like Seiji would get what he wanted. Nicholas kissed against his neck with a chuckle.

“Seiji,” he said, “if you don’t let go of my shirt, I won’t be able to take it off.”

“Oh.” It was all Seiji could think to say, and he forced his hands to release the bunches of fabric. Kissing Nicholas may well make him stupid. Nicholas kissed the side of his mouth, then tugged his shirt off and threw it aside with no qualms whatsoever. Typical. Nicholas normally discarded his clothing without a thought in the world. Nicholas gave another laugh, possibly having read the disapproval in Seiji’s face. Annoyed at his amusement, Seiji caught his lips in another kiss and Nicholas was sufficiently distracted.

It didn’t come as a surprise when Nicholas uprooted them from their current position to spread Seiji on his back, then crawl up on top of him. Seiji didn’t mind it. Liked it, even, because Nicholas liked it. It was clear in his eyes, the lust. The aching _want_. And for _him._ Over Seiji or not, Nicholas wanted him. And that was enough.

Nicholas worked bruises across his chest, hands slipping up and down his sides, through his hair, against his thighs. Seiji wrapped arms around Nicholas’s bare back and liked the feel of skin against skin, liked the shifting of Nicholas’s shoulder blades as he leveraged himself this way and that.

A hand brushed low on Seiji’s hip and it sent a shudder through him, forced a small gasp from his lips.

“Seiji?” Nicholas asked, fingers dipping under the waistband of his pants for just a moment.

“Yes.” 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy april fools! It's a wonder you lot put up with me tbh <3

_I love you._

Nick hadn’t expected that. What the hell he _had_ expected, he didn’t know. But not that. Definitely not that. And, fuck, that was pretty awful of him, wasn’t it? He should have—have _talked_ before doing any of that. But there was only so much self-control in him, and Seiji, straddling him and stripping and offering soft, sweet kisses? That broke what little self-control he did have.

_I want this,_ he’d said, and Nick had wanted it too. Wanted it so bad that he took it, and it was worse because, at the time, he was pretty sure he’d thought it was an apology. A peace offering. A way to replace an ugly memory with something less terrible.

_Yes,_ he’d said, and Nick hadn’t needed more than that. He should have. God, he should have asked more, should have asked what Seiji wanted, _really_. Should have told Seiji what _he_ wanted, too.

_I love you_ , he’d said, and it was the most beautiful thing Nick had ever heard. _Seiji_ was the most beautiful thing Nick had ever seen, especially right then. And he’d said he loved Nick, which was impossible. But he’d said it. And Seiji wouldn’t lie about that. And he’d said it in the exact moment that Nick was sure he would have spat venom if they’d gotten so far last year. And Nick had kissed him and kissed him and hadn’t stopped kissing him, not really. He’d been so happy. He _was_ so happy. But he was disappointed in himself now too for not being honest with Seiji all this year. And for letting them get so far without talking first.

_Good luck,_ he’d said, and Nick had watched him leave in a daze. He’d planned it perfectly. Seiji had gracefully disentangled himself from Nick, gathered up his clothing—strewn, for once, all over the floor—and had even had time for an impossibly quick shower before hefting up his already packed bags and walking out the door, right on schedule.

And he knew he should have done it differently, but Nick couldn’t stop smiling. Because Seiji loved him. And he— _fuck._ He felt his eyes go wide for the millionth time that night, felt the fluttering of absolute panic in his stomach.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck!”_ Nick sprang to his feet, searched the floor for some semblance of an outfit and hopped into it as fast as he’d ever gotten dressed before. He was already heading to the door as he stepped into his shoes and then he _ran._ Full speed, reckless, and not giving a shit if he got caught out after curfew. Because he had to catch Seiji. He _had_ to.

He checked his phone as he burst from the dorms. 10:15. _Fuck, fuck, fuck._ He ran harder, feet pounding loud and hard on the stone paths, and then on the grass because who had time for paths? Not Nick. But when he reached the front of the school with its large gates, he found it empty of cars and of Seiji.

“Fuck!” If there was something around to kick, Nick would have kicked it. Hard. He’d fucked up so fucking bad.

“Nick?” Nick spun around, found Bobby walking towards him. “What’s up?”

“Was I that loud?” Nick asked, and Bobby shrugged.

“I think you woke the whole hall. I thought I should probably check on you…” Bobby squinted at Nick as he closed in on him. Nick could see it as he registered the haphazard way he was dressed, the crumpled and hurried effect of it. “Oh, no. Nick, you _didn’t,”_ Bobby whispered, eyes growing to the size of dinner plates.

“Yeah,” Nick sighed. “I did.”

“ _Nick,”_ Bobby said again, and Nick crossed his arms, feeling a little defensive.

“He started it.”

“Seiji did?” Bobby asked in a surprised squeak. The way he looked at Nick, it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he started fanning himself at the sheer drama of it all.

“Yeah, he—he said he loves me.” Nick thought this was the _most_ surprising piece of information thus far, but Bobby just nodded thoughtfully.

“I thought he might.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not really my business.”

“Bullshit, that’s never stopped you.”

“I thought you were over him,” Bobby shrugged. “I know something bad happened between you guys last year. And you both seemed so happy to have moved past it. And you—you kept acting like you didn’t like him anymore. It really _wasn’t_ my place to go stirring up trouble for you two.”

“I’m so fucking stupid,” Nick groaned, sinking down to the ground. Bobby followed him, sitting down on the dirty ground in his cute pink pajamas.

“What did you do? Other than Seiji, I mean.”

Nick shot him a half-hearted glare for that.

“I didn’t say it back.”

“What?”

“I didn’t—I don’t know how I’m so goddamn _stupid_ , but I never told him I love him too.”

“Oh god,” Bobby breathed. “You just let him leave?”

“Yeah,” Nick pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I did. And now he’s going to think that it was only sex to me.”

“But…don't you think he knows?” Bobby asked tentatively. “I mean, it doesn’t seem like Seiji. He must have known, or he wouldn’t have started it, right?”

Nick had to laugh. Seiji didn’t always act in the way that _seemed_ like him, especially with sex. He shook his head, remembered Seiji telling him he wasn’t interested in emotionless sex, and the way he’d blushed after saying it, calling himself a hypocrite. But Nick had never thought him one. Last year, he _hadn’t_ tried for emotionless sex. Hatred was an emotion, wasn’t it? Nick hadn’t said it, was sure it would have made Seiji feel worse. And tonight? Tonight, Seiji had loved him. And it tore at his heart because Seiji thought himself alone in that love.

“No. He doesn’t know. I’m sure he thinks—fuck. Just. Fuck.” Nick could picture it all so clearly, Seiji’s hesitancy, his caution, and more than that, the way he acted like he expected to be shoved away at any moment. No, Seiji didn’t know. And he wouldn’t know until after nationals. Nick thought about calling Seiji but he somehow knew Seiji wouldn’t pick up. He considered trying to chase Seiji down when their bouts had them in the same venue. But…no. It wasn’t a thing for a text or a phone call or a hurried conversation fit in the margins between matches. Seiji deserved better than that.

Of course, he deserved better than _this_ , too. 

* * *

Nick didn’t sleep well that night. He woke up the next morning and felt an immediate stab in his chest, knowing Seiji had left. Nick’s eye caught on cheery blue fabric adorned with smiling yellow duckies and it sparked a deep frustration in him.

_Stupid fucking ducks._

Fueled by anger, Nick tore at the pointless curtain that had been a barrier between him and Seiji since the beginning. He ripped it all down. Watched it flutter to the floor with a fierce pleasure. But it was short-lived because all it did was reveal Seiji’s empty side of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so after I ran the chapter through the Klingon translator, there were still a lot of words that were left untouched. I had to get innovative with some of them because they don’t exist in Klingon. My favorites were ‘shoulder question’ for ‘shrugged’ and ‘yellow bird long window cape’ for ‘duck curtain’


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you missed it, I did indeed decide to reupload the previous chapter in English, though I was heavily advised against it, so probably read that before this one. But also, who am I to tell you how to live your life? do what you gotta do, boo, I support you

Seiji returned to the dorms late, but he still arrived before Nicholas. Where did that boy get off to? Seiji had spent a couple hours to mentally prepare, first with Dmytro, then alone, before coming back here. He’d needed the time. But the empty room pointed to the conclusion that Seiji could have just come here and had all the time alone he’d needed. He placed his things carefully by his bed but didn’t start unpacking just yet. That could wait for tomorrow. He regarded their room again and shook his head at the mess Nicholas had left this time. He frowned. The mess…it was a mass of blue fabric, spotted with bright yellow ducks. Seiji’s eyes snapped up, registering finally that he could see Nicholas’s bed from where he stood next to his own.

Nicholas must have torn it down. Why? Seiji wanted it to mean something. He wasn’t sure if it did. And Nicholas’s bed, neatly made and unused, on the other side of that abolished barrier—it made his pulse quicken, remembering the last time he’d seen it.

He knew he should feel bad for his actions, but he didn’t. Embarrassed, yes. But, mostly, relieved. He didn’t regret it because the alternative would have been worse. Seiji couldn’t let that night a year ago be all they’d ever had. Couldn’t have stood for his only memory of holding Nicholas close to him to be so awful. Every time he’d thought of Nicholas, that ugly, hateful night had surfaced. He’d wanted it to go away. And he couldn’t erase it. So he’d overwritten it. And he couldn’t be sorry for that. Because their _could have been_ wasn’t such a horned and painful memory anymore. Hopefully for Nicholas too.

The door gave a slight creak, and Seiji turned towards it, away from the accusing bed across the empty cord and fallen curtain. Nicholas, of course. He edged into the room, looking apprehensive. Maybe a little scared. A low rush of resentment, hurt, and grief flooded Seiji at the sight of him. But even as they bid for his attention, he couldn’t help his face from melting into a smile.

“You won,” he said, and it didn’t hurt as bad as he expected it to. “And you were amazing.” This didn’t hurt at all to admit. Nicholas smiled, wide and relieved, dropping his things on the floor carelessly and taking a step closer to Seiji.

“Second place isn’t so bad,” Nicholas said.

“Only if you still congratulate me for it, even though it’s not the best.” Seiji was hardly through with speaking when Nicholas reached for him, collecting him into a hug and holding him tight.

“Congratulations, Seiji. You’re spectacular and fantastic and talented and—the best. You’re the best.”

Seiji laughed softly at the spew of words, but held to Nicholas, buried his head in his shoulder, and allowed the words into him. He felt…better. It still hurt, losing. He was still upset, but he was also fine. He’d get over it. Because he had Nicholas here, rooting for him no matter what. And it made second place feel a little less terrible.

“The best in what?” Seiji asked with a small smile lingering. But it was okay because Nicholas couldn’t see that he was pleased, pressed into his shirt as Seiji was.

“Just _the best_ ,” Nicholas said, and he kissed Seiji’s temple. _What—?_ “I love you, Seiji.”

Seiji pulled away from Nicholas, stepping out of his warmth, removing himself before he melted into it.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to _take responsibility_ for my feelings or my actions,” Seiji said crisply.

“Seiji—,”

“No,” Seiji cut him off. “I don’t want your pity.” He wasn’t that pathetic. But his hand traveled to the band of black and silver on his wrist anyway, twisting it around in the way he’d taken to since Nicholas had given it to him.

“Can’t you just believe me?” Nicholas asked, exasperated but still smiling. “I’m telling you, I love you.” Seiji wanted to believe him, but— “But I guess I can’t blame you for doubting me,” Nicholas laughed a little. “I have been lying to you about it all year. I’m sorry.”

“What?” Seiji watched Nicholas carefully. He couldn’t mean…

“I never stopped loving you. Like you’re always saying, I’m a fool. I never got over you and I lied when you asked and I pretended I didn’t because I didn’t want to ruin this. Us. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before nationals. I meant to, I don’t know how I—but I came after you the second I realized I never said. I was too slow. You were already gone by the time I made it out to the gates. I spent every day cussing myself out for not telling you properly. But let me say it now; I love you.”

Nicholas took a step to close the distance Seiji had created not long before. Seiji didn’t move away.

“I love you.” Nicholas closed a hand over his wrist, brought it to his lips, kissing the tender skin on the inside of his wrist, just above his bracelet.

“I love you.” Nicholas wrapped his other arm around Seiji’s back, pulling him against him again. His eyes were serious, and Seiji let go. Let himself melt into the warmth.

“I love you too,” Seiji breathed in a relieved, happy rush, just managing to get the words out before pressing his lips to Nicholas’s and finding them as warm and wanting as ever. Losing nationals wasn’t nearly so bad as losing Nicholas had been. Wrapping himself tightly in Nicholas’s arms, Seiji didn’t intend to lose him ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand we're at the end! Which, despite the original plan for this idea, is not just after chapter two because I decided I was not the Actual Devil (jk, I totally am. I mostly just don't like sad things so I felt compelled to fix it). Thank you guys for giving this fic a try even though it started in a worrying place lmao I love you all to the moon and back 💜💜💜


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